


By Moonlight

by Texan_Red_Rose



Series: By Moonlight AU [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-16 19:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13060566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Texan_Red_Rose/pseuds/Texan_Red_Rose
Summary: Yang Xiao Long is a huntress known far and wide for her skills- and not just in hunting down regular creatures of the forest. No, her reputation includes more terrible beasts of unnatural origin, so when just such a creature invades Atlas' Royal Forest, the crown sends for her to eradicate it. Except, maybe she's not meant to kill the beast, and maybe there's more going on than meets the eye.





	1. The Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an idea by Ke'ena Kapu on the Elderburnin server!

A light layer of frost crunched underfoot, stubbornly clinging to the dirt and gravel of the road despite the many travelers coming and going from the royal city nestled at the base of the hill. Beyond the southern gates, houses and buildings stood, made of cold, unforgiving stone with black smoke billowing from chimneys, and an imposing castle in the distance, surrounded by lush forests. It painted quite the picture in the early morning light, the archway above the southern road bearing snow from the previous night’s fall.

Atlas in the winter time- she’d never come to the kingdom for a job, but seeing it blanketed in a pristine layer of pure white seemed fitting, considering the reputation the royal family possessed. The imperious, pale, bracing sort of nobles, and they’d requested her specifically from the Hunters’ Guild of Vale to handle a… beast of some sort. The letter wasn’t overly specific but the further she traveled, the more she learned, though the information she most desired remained curiously beyond her reach. A beast, bigger than any other, perhaps a true monster or a summoned spirit run rampant- it roamed the Royal Forest, fed off the King’s deer, and all royal hunts had to be canceled until it was vanquished. 

Yang Xiao Long puffed out a breath that turned to mist, shifting the pack on her shoulders. The long journey from the coast meant she’d relish the chance to set her gear down, but first she had to acquaint herself with the area. Surely, those living a stone’s throw from the woods where the beast dwelt would know better than any the sort of creature she faced.

Horses whinnied and neighed, an ass brayed, and wagons creaked as people brought goods to the royal market, the low hum of chatter occasionally punctuated by vendors hawking their wares, and Yang weaved in and out without much trouble. She noticed some people staring, their eyes focused on the furs draped across her shoulders, the ax strapped to her back and sword at her hip, cestus on her forearms catching the weak morning light, and a smile curled her lips, hidden by the orange scarf wrapped around her neck. Amid the subdued colors of Atlas and the winter, the yellow of her hair, lilac of her eyes, stood out, with only the brown of her pelts and tunic the only things to tone down her appearance amid the locals. From high rooftops flew Atlas’ royal sigil, a white snowflake on a white field, outlined in a bright sort of blue, such a contrast to all the lands she’d traveled already.

“Ho, traveler.” A stocky man clad in armor called out to her, the royal emblem upon his breastplate with a crown above it likely signifying a guard of some sort. “Are you the Huntress?”

“Well, I’m  _a_  Huntress,” she replied, offering a teasing smile. “But, yeah, I’m probably who you’re looking for. I was called here about a beast?”

“The King would like to speak with you immediately.”

She quirked a brow but nodded, quite certain it wasn’t the King who’d sent for her. Regardless, she was wise enough not to turn down a royal invitation, but she wouldn’t let it detract her from her own mission. “Have you heard any tales of this beast?”

“Heh, I’ve heard tales of it, aye.” The guard shook his head. “You’re a fool to try and hunt the damned thing. It’s killed the last six people who’ve tried; Royal Hunters all, decades of experience, felled by the creature- without so much as wounding it!”

“What about farmers? Shepherds? Woodsmen?”

The man frowned, looking at her then. “No, nor a head of cattle or sheep. Whatever it is, it stays in the royal forest, and no commoner would dare trespass.”

Yang didn’t believe that in the slightest; a mindless beast would hunt the easiest prey, and cows fattened for slaughter made much easier targets than deer. “How long has it plagued you?”

“A few months. It just… suddenly appeared, out in the forest- Her Highness, Princess Weiss, was nearly killed by the beast.” The man shook his head. “We’re truly blessed she survived the encounter. After what happened with her sister…”

“Dead?” 

“No… though it might be a kinder fate. She displeased the King by failing to protect her sister from the beast and he had her stripped of her birthright.” The guard looked a bit sad then. “A shame, really.”

Curious, Yang tilted her head; while her skills tended more towards tracking down terrible creatures, she had the sense to know when something was off, even in regards to something as seemingly ridiculous as court drama in a foreign land. “What makes you say that?”

On the walk to the castle, Yang learned more about the royal family of Atlas than she did of the beast they’d hired her to hunt, and something began gnawing at the back of her mind- a suspicion she wouldn’t voice. But she certainly noticed how no one seemed relieved by her appearance, most shrugging off her introduction with indifference. Whatever beast plagued the royal forest… the people didn’t seem to mind the thing too much.

It seemed they were right to request her specifically and she looked forward to plying her talents.

* * *

The castle was… cold. Fires burned in every fireplace, torches on every wall, but it all felt… impartial, if she had to put a word to it. The royal guards acknowledged her with tilts of their heads and a word or two to her guide, knights passed them with hardly a word, and a few nobles stumbled about, hungover from a feast the night before- to celebrate the announcement of another offensive for the war front. Yang caught snatches of conversation that filled in the details and tried to hide the frown tugging at her lips; for a kingdom under siege by a terrible beast, no one seemed too… actually disturbed by it. No whispers of the creature stalking the night before and no outpouring of gratitude for her arrival.

All in all, she couldn’t be convinced the beast actually posed a problem rather than a slight annoyance, if even that.

Finally, they came to two towering doors, thrown open as people quietly milled around in a line leading towards an ornate throne, upon which sat a woman who couldn’t be much older than herself.

Snow white hair, pale skin, flashing blue eyes, with a thin circlet settled on her temples and a flowing white dress with light blue accents. Obviously not the Queen- from the stories Yang had heard thus far, likely Princess Weiss, with the healing scar across her left eye becoming more prominent the closer the hunter drew to the raised dais upon which the throne sat. Behind her left shoulder, hanging in the shadows behind the royal, she spied a glowing set of amber eyes catching the fire light, scanning the room for any possible threats.

The Princess held up a hand, halting the next person to speak with her- a blacksmith, given the heavy leather apron over his burly frame- and directed her gaze to the guard as he led Yang past the line of people awaiting her attention.

“Sir, what is the meaning of this?” Then she seemed to notice who, exactly, accompanied him. “Is this the Huntress?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The guard stepped aside, bowing so that Yang could step forward.

Her Highness made a motion with her left hand, her shadow stepping forward to reveal a Faunus with flowing midnight hair and feline ears atop her head. A few quick words were exchanged before she nodded, stepping down from the dais and bowing her head towards Yang.

“Please, follow me,” she said, turning to lead the way through a small doorway off to the side, down the hall and into another room. “Her Highness will meet with you after the petitions are through.”

“I thought I was meeting the King?” She raised a brow, noting the shadow that passed over the Faunus’ expression, quicker than a flickering flame.

“If you’re lucky, you’ll meet with  _her_  first.” Again, the attendant bowed. “Please, wait here. Her Highness won’t keep you waiting long.”

And with that, she slipped back out, leaving Yang alone in the room. It was nice, if a bit bare, with plain white stone and white and blue trappings on the walls. Large, plush armchairs sat in front of a fire place, and she felt a bit tempted to sit down, but opted instead to review what little information she’d gathered.

However, that plan was shot when the door opened, and her gaze was drawn to the woman striding in, cape billowing in her wake. Dressed as a noble with military decorations pinned to her chest, white hair pulled up in a severe bun with those same flashing eyes- the elder sibling, no doubt, considering the strong resemblance, like she was now looking at the same woman but from a future time. She couldn’t be much older- a few years, at most- but something flashed in her eyes, a spark of wisdom older than herself, a sort of maturity born from hardship. Yet, there didn’t seem to be bitterness to accompany the pristine white of her fine silk, no edge to the coldness she exuded, like staring out at the fresh fallen snow through a window, able to see beauty without fighting the chill. 

“So you’re the Huntress they’ve sent for,” she said, a note of dismissive derision in her tone as her gaze flicked over Yang’s form. “Your reputation precedes you. They say you’re quite formidable when tracking down your prey.”

“I’m good at my job.” Blue eyes lingered on her shoulders, lips curling in disdain, and she couldn’t be sure how she’d managed to displease the woman so swiftly but offered a friendly smile. “You must be Princess Winter-”

“I’m no Princess. Not any longer.” The woman squared her shoulders, a pinch to her brows as she just barely refrained from outright glaring at Yang. Anger- understandable- and something else, something just a bit… more, almost like a grudge, despite the fact they’d never met before. “I’m merely a soldier, and I’ve been ordered to provide you what tools you require to track down this beast.”

“I appreciate the offer, Miss Winter,” she said, noting how the honorific did nothing to improve the woman’s sour mood and pressing on regardless. “But, actually, I’d like a little more detail on what it  _is_  I’ll be hunting. The request… wasn’t very specific and no one’s really been able to say.”

The former Princess- which, honestly, Yang wasn’t even sure if that was a  _thing_ or not, but beside the point- stared at her for a moment before sighing. “We’re doing our best not to cause a panic; that information cannot leave the castle walls.”

“I can’t hunt a ghost; that's not my specialty,” she replied, spreading her hands. “At least give me  _something_  to start with.”

“It’s a wolf of some sort, but much larger than any breed native to Atlas.”

“Like a direwolf?” Aggressive and fearless, direwolves were nearly hunted to extinction to make way for more human villages across Mantle and Mistral, but some packs survived in the far reaches where people dared to tread. If it  _was_  a direwolf, the fact Princess Weiss had escaped with only a scratch could only count as a blessing, when the vast majority of unprepared souls who encountered them were lucky to die a quick death. 

“Perhaps.” The woman shook her head. “It’s large and dangerous. That’s all there really is to say about the beast.” Those blue eyes fell on her. “And you’ve been hired to kill it. I suppose that’s all there really is to say about you.” She drew herself up to her fullest height, clasping her hands behind her back. “And that’s the extent of the situation. Is there anything you require?”

Yang felt her suspicions whisper even louder. Winter looked like a taut bow string, pulled to snapping but just barely maintaining her composure, as if furious words sat on the tip of her tongue locked behind tightly clenched teeth. Considering the lack of information given, it almost felt like not even  _she_  had much interest in seeing this beast problem brought to an end.

“I’ll let you know if anything comes to mind.”

With a slight nod, the woman turned, as if to leave, but the door opened again and in strode a man just an inch or two shorter, with a heavy crown wrought in gold on his head, the snowflake prominent in the center of his forehead and mustache quivering as his gaze landed on his daughter. They didn’t share as striking a resemblance- white hair, blue eyes of a different shade- but they carried themselves similarly.

“This is not the war room, Commander,” the King said, his tone dripping with condescension. “Have you forgotten already your place of duty?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Winter replied, her tone and expression absolutely placid though the flashing in her eyes turned cold and furious. “But we’ve a special guest. It would be poor manners to not receive her properly.”

He hummed, brushing past her with a dismissive grunt. “Ah, yes. The Huntress, come to slay this disgusting beast. I’ll make the arrangements;  _you_  should find something useful to do with yourself.”

For a brief moment, her mask broke, fury and disdain splayed across her expression, but everything disappeared so quickly, Yang almost thought she’d imagined it. “Of course, Sire.”

As she left, the hunter’s heart went out to the woman; she quite well understood the pain of being so thoroughly dismissed by a parent without good reason. 

“So you’re the Huntress of Vale, hmmm?” The King’s gaze flickered over her, a snarl curling his lips. “Or did the illustrious Guild of Hunters send us their barmaid?”

 _Charming man_ , she thought, though she gave him a small smile. “I assure you, Your Majesty, I’m the one you seek. Creatures of this nature are my specialty.”

“Then I can expect the damned thing dead by the morning?” He straightened out the silk of his shirt. “My more useless noblemen are complaining about the lack of hunting grounds and I’m running low on reasons to care for their entertainment.”

There were jobs she didn’t like, and there were  _clients_  she didn’t like, and this hunt firmly fell into the latter category. “Your Majesty, I’m afraid I’ve received little information. All I know is that it’s a wolf of some-” 

“It’s no wolf,” he said, a furrow to his brows, mouth turning down at the corners. “It’s a monster born of the darkest bowels and should be snuffed out as soon as possible.”

“Your Majesty, it’ll take some time to track this beast, find out  _what_  it is and how to kill it.” She crossed her arms over her chest, not the least bit intimidated by the displeasure in his expression. “I’ll also need to research what potential beasts I could be encountering, ones native to the area-”

“Then lock yourself in a library for all the help it’ll do you.” The King spat, turning towards the door, where several attendants stood, having slipped in silently when Winter left and bowing their heads reverently as the sovereign passed. “But you’ll not be paid until I have that creature’s head mounted on my wall.”

Without another word, he swept out of the room with his attendants scurrying after him and a small retinue of royal guards trailing behind.

“Charming royal family,” she said, releasing a soft sigh, only for yet another to enter the small room- and, this time, the person she was  _actually_  expecting.

“Greetings, Huntress.” The Princess offered her a tight smile, worry shining in the amber eyes of her attendant. “I… believe you’ve already met my father, the King.”

“If you could call it that,” she replied. “If I’m honest, I must admit this is one of the odder jobs I’ve received. I’m really not sure who called me here, if I’m actually needed, or even what sort of creature might  _possibly_  be in your forest, other than some sort of wolf.”

A frown touched the Princess’ lips. “Does that mean you’ll leave?”

“Not if I can get a few answers.”

“I’ll provide those I can.” Her gaze briefly darted around. “But you must understand; I am but the heiress to the throne. The castle isn’t mine, nor all the eyes and ears in it. If the King has forbidden me to speak… I must abide.”

Beneath the words and the polite expression, she could clearly see the ambition and hear the unspoken ‘for now’ at the end.

Just  _what_  had she gotten dragged into?

* * *

The night air, cold and crisp, cut through her furs, making her shiver. Yang had faced winters all over Remnant but had yet to experience the terrible severity of the Atlesian cold. However, according to the Princess, the beast could only be found roaming the forest at night, no hint of its den during the day and no trails either. Skeptical, she’d gone to the castle’s impressive library and perused some of the books there, seeking any hint of local mythos to support the sort of beast described. Direwolves were nocturnal, yes, but they clearly marked their territory, and the more she dug through the books, the less the theory held water.

Birds took flight in the distance, disturbed by something, and she could hear the sound of movement carrying through the snow filled air as it lightly fell down. Lilac eyes scanned between the trees, her head moving as little as possible to keep herself hidden among the branches and shrubs.

Only one particular book proved promising, one detailing the ancient legends about the founding of Atlas’ royal line. If the old tales were to be believed, it might explain why the royal family remained reluctant to explicitly called the beast by name… but it also didn’t make much sense either, at least from her perspective.

In the darkness beyond the treeline in front of her, hidden from the bright moon overhead, something moved. Massive, with light colored fur and eyes that gleamed in the low light- shining gold.

 _That’s not good_. Yang waited, watching as it moved, massive head low to the ground.  _Don’t do it, don’t do it_.

Then, the creature hit on the scent of deer that had passed through the area earlier in the day. It seemed to resist the impulse for all of two seconds before tilting its head back, rearing up on two legs, and loosing a long howl that echoed through the night.

 _Werewolf_.

Part of her felt relieved- she  _knew_  how to deal with werewolves- and the rest of her felt a great sense of foreboding settle over her shoulders- werewolves occupied a very specific place in Atlesian mythology and legends. All the Atlesian bloodlines had died out ages ago and not a one had been seen within the kingdom’s borders since; she felt confident that this wasn’t a displaced local aware of their trespass and simply unburdened by concern.

And part of her realized that  _was not_  good news.

With the scent of its prey caught, the beast took off in a run, rushing through the trees and brush. Once the sounds faded, Yang left her hiding spot and went to where the creature had stood. There, she found claw and paw marks- huge ones. Long white fur, shedding easily- not uncommon for one recently turned. Looking around, she saw evidence of where its burly frame had broken branches- not the largest she’d seen, but  _very_  close.

“Well… this is either going to be really good… or  _really_  bad.”

She stood, listening to the sounds of the forest. The deer had probably traveled miles by now, but if she moved quickly, she might be able to catch a better look of the beast she sought. Confronting it tonight would be ill advised at best; hopefully, she could get at least get a sense of how to approach it.

Hopefully.

* * *

Three nights had passed since her arrival, all spent out in the forest tracking the werewolf, and she shouldered her way into the dining hall with a slight grimace. 

The morning after her first hunt, her attempt to inform the royal family of her progress in identifying the beast was shouted down by the King, a cold fire in his eyes as he demanded she simply destroy the creature that night or not trouble them with inane details at all, and she quite nearly walked out on principle alone. But Princess Weiss entreated her to stay and continue her work, promising to double the reward if needed- which it wasn’t, truly. The more time she spent in the royal castle, the more she got the sense that something wasn’t right, something hiding just around the corner and she couldn’t catch a glimpse of it. What time she didn’t spend tracking or sleeping, she used in other ways, scouring the books of the royal library or listening to tales from servants and guards- regarding the beast, the royal family, the royal forest, whatever they could tell her. She learned many things… but not all of them terribly useful to her hunt.

“Good morning, Huntress.” Princess Weiss greeted with a small frown. “Is… everything alright?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Gingerly sitting down at the long table- near the head, where the woman sat with her attendant just a step behind, though the table directly to the Princess’ right seemed recently vacated- Yang puffed out a breath, massaging her right side. “I crossed paths with the beast last night.”

Pale eyebrows rose as she leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Did you harm the beast?”

“No,” she replied with a grin. “I’m afraid we surprised each other. It managed to take a swipe or two at me, but I stabbed it and drove it off.” 

 _That_  troubled her. She’d been careful, hiding among the snow, staying downwind- she’d even crossed the river that ran through the forest despite the dangers. The werewolf shouldn’t have picked up on her scent, or known it was being hunted, but the beast’s behavior had changed the past few nights, as if it could sense her getting close. The night before, she’d left for the forest before the sun even touched the horizon, first stalking a stag the werewolf would undoubtedly choose as its next meal and lying in wait. For a newly turned werewolf- which all evidence seemed to indicate was true of this one- the call for meat should’ve been too strong to properly assess risk, to approach with caution, yet this one did. It correctly deduced she would be lying in wait and tried to flush her out of hiding.

Unfortunately, its grand entrance happened to be  _right_  on top of her, and she’d taken a blind swing with her prosthetic to drive it back. All that did was earn her a snap from jaws powerful enough to crush bone, closing on thin air, and she’d drawn her silver dagger as a means of warding the beast off, unsure if she could reach past the wolf to the person beneath. With a well aimed swing, she’d managed to stab into the creature’s right hindleg, earning her a whine and whimper but nearly wrenching her arm out of socket when it turned, trying to dislodge her.

Yang had hardly managed to pull her dagger free before the werewolf turned and ran, disappearing into the night. She could’ve given chase, true, but it would do her no good. Better to wait until the following night, when the agony from the wound would make the werewolf easier to track, easier to surprise; if she could restrain it until morning, she could talk to the person, try to help them however she could. Vale had many werewolf packs willing to take in new blood; surely one of them would welcome a new packmate, and she preferred to end hunts like this with as little bloodshed as possible.

“So the beast yet lives.” Many things could be said of the Princess, but her having a strong poker face didn’t factor into any of those, just enough relief shining in blue eyes to make the hunter curious. “I suppose that means you’ll be out there again tonight? Or will you rest?”

“I appreciate your concern, Your Highness, but I’d rather continue my hunt tonight.” She offered a tight smile. “It’s wounded. I wouldn’t want it to suffer.”

The Faunus narrowed her eyes, ears twitching, but remained silent as her charge sat back with a sigh.

“I quite understand. Please, keep me posted on any developments; seeing this issue… handled properly is one of my priorities.”

That had proven true. Even if the King himself hadn’t taken much interest in her hunt, Princess Weiss wanted an update daily, and would sometimes send a messenger to find her if they somehow missed each other at breakfast.

The guards posted outside the hall opened the door, admitting Miss Winter, again bedecked in her military uniform… but something seemed a bit off, a bit more surliness in the twist of her lips, a furrow to her brow.

“Good morning, Sister.” Princess Weiss greeted warmly, motioning for another plate to be brought out even as one was set in front of Yang- meats and fruit with some cheese on the side and two bread rolls, a bit light considering how much energy the hunter burned but better than nothing. She would need to sneak another treat sometime later. “Did you sleep well?”

“Just fine,” Miss Winter replied, gruffly and with a scowl as she sat beside the Princess, in the seat to the woman’s right- another curiosity. Whenever their father was present, the elder stood with the soldiers or guards, never seated with the rest of the royal family. Even when their brother- younger than the Princess, though not by terribly much- was around, she acted as any other member of the castle’s staff. But when it was just the two royal sisters, they were equals, sitting beside one another and speaking without regard to titles. “The King postponed the war meeting to personally inspect the weapons shipment that arrived this morning.”

“Another one.” The corners of the Princess’ mouth turned down, almost into a frown. “That’s the third one this week.”

Yang quietly ate her food, watching as flickers of annoyance and pain flashed across Miss Winter’s expression, the woman shifting ever so slightly as the sisters continued their conversation regarding the latest royal order for conscripts from the southern reaches of the kingdom. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something seemed very… off about her posture.

“Winter, are you alright?” The Princess’ brows furrowed.

“I’m perfectly fine,” she replied, but the words were spat out like acid, and a twitch of her brow proved the woman realized she’d responded too heatedly. Pushing away from the table, she stood, her breakfast only half eaten. “You have petitions to hear today. You haven’t the time to waste dithering about, worrying after me. His Majesty will likely seek you out around noon for the war meeting as well; I suggest you hurry with your duties.”

“Of course,” Princess Weiss replied, hurriedly standing up; her heart remained in the right place and she had the fire in her to make changes, Yang could tell that much, but she still lacked her elder sibling’s more rigorous adherence to age old traditions. “I’ll see you then.”

“Right.” Miss Winter turned on heel, heading for the door, and the hunter got up too, finally hitting on what seemed off about the woman.

She was walking with a limp.


	2. The Hunted

The hunter left the dining hall, with a few kind comments to the staff, and ducked through the doorway Winter had taken, determination pinching her brow. The woman hadn’t made it very far, though, walking much slower than her stature should allow, and she turned to look at Yang over her shoulder once she noticed she was being followed.

“What do you want, Huntress?”

“Pardon the intrusion, Miss Winter-” She ignored the eye roll and disgruntled huff at the honorific. “-but it seems like you’re… not feeling well.”

The woman watched her, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And what, exactly, are you attempting to imply with  _that_  accusation.”

“You’re limping, Miss Winter-”

“You needn’t refer to me every sentence; I’ll not forget who I am between addresses.” The acid from before returned, tenfold; she wasn’t family and not afforded the mercy of remorse for the bluntness. “If you  _must_  know, I experienced a rare bout of clumsiness this morning and fell against my bedside table.” Winter turned, continuing the way she was heading. “I’m not sure what bearing that has on why you’re here but now you know. Be on your way.”

Yang pursed her lips, watching the woman’s stiff posture and the slight annoyance hunching her shoulders, then pressed forward. “Someone needs to look at it." 

"I’ll have no one  _else_ mock my clumsiness, thank you.” Winter scoffed, turning to continue down the hall. “A scratch from a stumble is hardly cause to alert the castle healer." 

"It could get infected or worse.” The hunter followed a few steps behind, watching the noble’s unsteady gait. To most, it would hardly be noticeable, but during her brief time in Atlas’ capital, Yang had learned to read the royal family very well.

The King had more ambition than sense, and he walked like a man with an all consuming purpose completely unaware of the dangers around him, so absolutely possessed of his own superiority. The Queen… had more sense than care and frankly more liquor in her pinky than either. Borne in litters and chairs by servants, she couldn’t possibly keep her legs beneath her, nor her wits about her. A shame, considering the stories of who the Queen used to be before her marriage. 

That left the royal children, the  _real_ masters of the castle, seeing as the King spent more time in the war room and the Queen probably didn’t know where she was. The youngest- Prince Whitley- existed as the embodiment of every ill whisper peasants traded between them: spoiled, loud, and generally impaired sense of the world. His attendants constantly flocking around him, protecting him from the truth; he walked as children often do, with a certain fearlessness, but at nearly sixteen that carelessness looked more like foolishness. The middle child- Princess Weiss- was far more serious, if still lacking a proper sense of her place in the world. She wanted to do it all, rule in absolutes and eliminate grey areas, lead Atlas into a brighter future to fulfill a much different vision than her father saw. Unlike the rest of her family, Princess Weiss seemed to listen to others and take their comments to heart, not just her sister’s; Yang had to assume the ever present shadow who so often attended the Princess had something to do with the seemingly sudden disdain for the discrimination against Faunus that remained a long held tradition in Atlas. Frankly, the crown could use such an updated view, and Princess Weiss possessed the force of will to see her aims through.

That left the eldest, the disinherited former heiress apparent to the throne. Although given a prestigious position at the head of Atlas’s army, what little whispers Yang had caught hinted at a terrible falling out between the King and his eldest child, but she carried herself proudly, chin tilted up in resolute defiance. Every step seemed sure, the very idea of faltering laughable, and her precarious position within the castle seemed to enforce that heavily, the King’s attention only ever moving away from his maps and strategies to land heavily upon Winter. At first, Yang thought the woman bore it out of stubborn pride, but the truth became more apparent with each passing day: as long as Winter stood ready to trip up, the King watched her like a hawk, and completely missed how Princess Weiss walked further and further from the path he’d laid out for her. 

Yang had no illusions about this objection. The woman needed tending, but if she faltered, the King would declare her unfit for her position, perhaps banish her elsewhere, and his attention could turn to Weiss, who at twenty years old stood ready to assume the throne yet unprepared for the undertaking of combating her father in tandem with helping her people. Still, she couldn’t allow Winter to suffer in silence; she’d been hired to bring the people of Atlas and it’s royal family some manner of peace. It seemed the easiest way to do so- aside from slaying the werewolf hiding in the woods- would be to help protect Princess Weiss and keep Winter from being found out. 

“I don’t need your assistance, Huntress.”

Yang’s hand shot out, grabbing the woman’s wrist. They looked so different- one wearing furs and chain mail with all manner of weapons hanging from her belts and the other in a crisp dress uniform with glittering medals and buttons- but they shared this, a stubborn sort of pride and dedication, the mark of an elder sibling doing everything in their power for the younger ones, even if it meant hiding their own pain. 

“Yeah, well, you’re getting it anyway.” Her face hardened, adopting the same tone she’d used every time someone tried to bully her into accepting a lesser reward or when Ruby tried sneaking cookies after dinner when they were younger. “You’re no good to anyone walking around like that, and I can at least clean the wound and patch you up. No one the wiser and we never mention it again. Deal?”

Blue eyes narrowed, shining with suspicion and… something else. “You’re a persistent bastard." 

"Not my fault my folks didn’t marry,” she replied flippantly, nodding back the way they’d come. “Come with me now, and you’ll be able to bear weight on the leg by dinner." 

She sighed. "Very well. Lead on." 

Confident the woman wouldn’t slink away now that she’d gotten her to agree, Yang turned and started down the hallway, the tread of boots behind her comforting. Trying to discreetly convince her to accept help was one thing; having to drag her unwillingly would draw a  _bit_  more attention than either would like.

Silence filled the space between them until they passed a particular painting, depicting a group of knights facing off a great white wolf. She’d seen it before, finding the whole thing odd, and opted to comment on it now that she had someone’s ear. "You guys didn’t waste time immortalizing something, huh?" 

"Nor twisting it.” Winter spat, stopping to stare up at the rendition, eyes lingering where blood stained the beast’s muzzle and painted the snow beneath it. “This blasted beast panic has some of my best soldiers on edge, fearing some infernal demon. It’s done nothing but kill a few deer.”

“People have gotten hurt, too,” she said, a frown touching her lips as she stopped and turned towards the woman. “Though I agree that it’s done hardly any harm.” At the curious grunt and raised brow, she continued. “This is no ordinary beast. That being said, it should hunger for human flesh, seek out villages, howl long into the night to spread fear… this one doesn’t.” She rubbed at her side where the beast had swiped at her the night before. Six inch long claws… yet not one drew blood. She had a bruise, yes, but only that. “I feel like this is the most… intelligent creature I’ve ever hunted and I don’t think it wants to hurt anyone. It… almost seems peaceful.”

She kept her suspicions to herself. After facing off against it last night, she knew perhaps better than anyone that it was nothing short of a scion from one of the supposedly extinct bloodlines, a legendary beast of strength and ingenuity, a cursed soul… but this one retained enough humanity that it seemed almost  _too_  intelligent at times. Any more of a beast and it would’ve killed her the night before when it had the chance- but she’d expected a beast and stood a fair chance of killing it before things got that bad, loathe as she was to do that. Now, though, she had to either outsmart it or give up the fight; although the crown didn’t seem too fond of it, the werewolf wasn’t harming the people and there were signs the forest benefited from the beast’s presence. The King’s orders had filled the forest with far too many deer and they were leaving patches of no greenery at all, turning once lush clearings into mud that did nothing to keep the river down, the banks eroding from the excess water, and the dam had burst a few months back due to the unexpected increase.

“You show an unbecoming amount of empathy for the beast you’re hired to kill,” Winter said, jaw tight. 

“Maybe that’s a good thing.” She smiled. “This is no ordinary beast; I’m no ordinary hunter.” With a chuckle, she shrugged her shoulders. “Honestly, I think driving it north, away from the royal forest, would be better than killing it. Some creatures… are too magnificent to be mounted on a wall.”

“His Majesty would disagree." 

"Your father would piss his pants if he so much as caught a whiff of the wolf,” Yang replied, fairly confident her comment wouldn’t be met with a reprimand of any sort, despite the intentional informality of her chosen address.

An unexpected chuckle burst from the woman’s lips, proving her right. "I can’t fault you there.“ 

"Every now and again, I make a good point.” She lightly touched Winter’s shoulder. “Come on. That scratch won’t mend itself and I can’t have you falling down and landing on any more furniture in the meantime.”

“What, exactly, are you insinuating with that comment?” She tried to seem a bit annoyed at the implications but the woman was leaning on her uninjured leg heavily and winced when her posture straightened. “Nevermind. Let’s just go." 

As they both turned to continue, Yang paused, noting something in the painting she hadn’t noticed before: for some reason, the great white wolf was depicted with bright blue eyes instead of the glimmering gold from the night before. It might’ve been just the artist’s affinity for whites and blues to offset the silver and reds of the knights but… in a castle where all five members of the royal family had white hair and blazing blue eyes… it seemed an odd choice. 

"Hey, Miss Winter… who painted this?" 

"Stop calling me that.” She snapped, then sighed. “And my sister did. She saw the beast- no doubt you’ve heard the story." 

Yang’s eyes narrowed. The limp in Winter’s right leg, the wound in the werewolf’s right hindleg, and the painting… perhaps she was seeing things. 

But it certainly didn’t feel like it at this point. 

* * *

Yang frowned, peeling back a hastily applied bandage caked with blood to reveal an oozing wound. Between trying to stay focused on her task- bereft of the dress pants tucked into the woman’s boots, she was left with on her small clothes to protect her modesty, and the injury sat high on her thigh- and the troublesome amount of blood, the experienced hunter had thoughts pinging around her head almost faster than she could grasp them, but she reached for a clean cloth to dip into the bowl of water she’d fetched. The first thing she needed to do was clean the area so she could stitch it up. 

A hiss immediately left the woman’s mouth as Yang tried her best to be gentle, glancing towards Winter’s face, pinched in agony. Here, lying on her side in the bed provided for the visiting hunter, the proud soldier had fallen away, brows pinching together as she’d nearly stumbled through the door. Yang had helped her move to the bed but turned her back for the undressing process, seeing as Winter had valiantly defended her ability to attend the task herself. 

Setting a hand on her hip, Yang spoke softly. "This is going to hurt a little but you’ll feel better soon. Promise." 

Winter let out a short huff in response, remaining silent and keeping her gaze turned away, staring off into the distance, unseeing.

Once she’d cleaned the wound, worry turned to dread, and a small weight dropped into the bottom of her stomach. The flesh had been rent asunder, a deep gash with the sharp edges of a blade, gray marks akin to a bruise surrounding it, and thin black veins branching out. 

Silver burns and poisoning. 

Yang sighed, turning towards her bag and reaching for a little jar she carried with her everywhere, nondescript and rousing no suspicion from anyone who might be going through her things. 

"What’s that?" 

"A salve for burns,” she replied, keeping her voice soft. 

Winter immediately tensed. “I didn’t get burned-" 

"Easy.” She offered a smile, opting to continue the ruse a little longer. “It’s just a friction burn. You must’ve been moving faster than you thought." 

Yang knew better. Humans wouldn’t get a burn like that from a blade wound; it came from the silver of her dagger pressing against the skin of a werewolf. The thin black lines, proof that enough silver lingered in the wound to seep into her bloodstream, wouldn’t kill her outright, but it would prevent the skin from mending. Left unattended, the wound  _would_  become infected by silver-bite, if the silver poisoning her blood hadn’t worked its way to her heart by then.

Opening the jar, she scooped out a dollop of the salve and braced herself, applying it generously to the wound. 

"Hah!” Winter jerked, curled in on herself as she tried to hold her scream in, teeth grit in agony. Although she probably wasn’t aware, the points of her incisors had become sharper, along with her other teeth. “Wha-" 

"I know it hurts, but it passes swiftly.” She sighed, a little tension bleeding from her shoulders. She expected Winter to take a swing at her, and wouldn’t have blamed her for it either. "Try not to squirm too much.“ After coating the outside, she pushed some of the salve inside the wound, watching as the grey and black receded, the silver broken down quickly into parts so small it could pass through the werewolf’s veins without too much trouble. Aside from lethargy, Winter would recover quickly, and her skin already began to stitch itself back together before her eyes. "There.” Yang sat back, grabbing a fresh bandage and covering the wound for the time being. It wasn’t necessary but it would at least keep the grease of the salve from staining any clothing, which would work best for everyone. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“Easy for you to say.” Winter growled and coughed immediately after, trying her best to cover the beastial quality to her voice. “So you’re a hunter and a healer? Seems at odds." 

"Really, they’re not.” She put the lid back on the jar and tucked it away. “Two sides to the same coin." 

"How do you possibly come to that conclusion?” Some of the heat had died from her voice, body uncurling as the burning past. 

“Healing is about maintaining the balance between life and death- mend what you can and ease the passing when it’s time,” Yang said, wiping her fingers off on a spare cloth. “Hunting is the same, from the other angle. End the suffering of the old, sick, and lame creatures, use their meat to feed the hungry.” She chuckled. “And, when it comes to creatures who terrify and destroy, restore the peace. Most of the time, no one wants to eat the meat of a terrible creature; if it terrorizes people, they’d rather burn the remains. That’s a waste when there can be a better balance." 

"Who taught you this?” Winter drawled, seemingly tired from both the silver sapping her strength and the salve taking the rest. “Here, hunters here are taught to prize the kill. It is not an act of mercy.”

For a moment, she thought about giving her usual answer. People asked her so many times- they would look at her confused, sometimes angry, because instead of bringing back a carcass, she brought back her word that a creature would cause no more harm. Yet, her word carried weight in Remnant, because she’d yet to be proven wrong; most of the time, creatures of that nature would prefer not to cross paths with humans or Faunus, and just needed a little help. Hunting, she’d found, was as much about the kill as understanding her prey, and the balance of life demanded less bloodshed sometimes. 

Instead, she gave the truth.

“From the Elders,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and resting her elbows on her knees. It wasn’t a comfortable position with the metal of her prosthetic digging into her skin, but she’d learned not to rest her weight on her arms and the position helped her think, even if it wasn’t relaxing. “They taught me many things. Hunting and healing, navigation and bartering, respect for the land and disdain for those who would squander it, or the precious gift of life.”

“So that’s why you’d rather not slay this terrible beast? Because some grandmother told you to respect the life of monsters?” Winter puffed out a breath. “You’d be better off killing the beast next chance you get. Perhaps it won’t be so kind next time. Perhaps it can’t be." 

"The Elders are not humans or Faunus; they’re werewolves,” she replied, noting the way the woman’s posture seemed to immediately tense, but she pressed on regardless. Her left hand rose, fingers digging into the tawny fur of one pelt draping her shoulders. “In Vale, the Elders are a council of werewolves, the pack leaders who meet with the humans and Faunus to ensure balance in our lands. They raised me to be a hunter; it’s in the blood for me to seek and find, and my wanderlust was best channeled into something productive. So I learned many things, many skills, and here I am, one of the most celebrated hunters of my time.” She chuckled. “And hired to hunt a werewolf. I’m not sure if I approve of the universe’s sense of humor." 

"Then why wear werewolf pelts?” The woman’s voice seemed cautious, as if anticipating something foul. “Seems a poor way to honor the skills they taught you." 

A flicker of anger passed through her but she shoved it aside, keeping her voice steady as her hand moved to the darker, earthy colored pelt. "These belonged to two people very important to me. They taught me more than I deserve to know.” She sighed. “Werewolves mate for life, you know, but they’re supernatural creatures, with lifespans that reach beyond humans or Faunus. And eventually, they grow weary of the marching days. When I was old enough, they decided to enter their eternal sleep, but left me pieces of them.” Forcing back the tears, Yang offered a small smile. “I like to think they’ve kept me alive several times, protecting me even though they’re gone. It makes the hunts seem less lonely.”

Silence settled between them, memories lingering at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite indulge just yet. Instead, she put the pieces together; no wonder the woman had reacted so hostile towards her at the onset. Although a werewolf’s pelt looked no different than a wolf’s, the scent was different to a discerning nose, even after being tanned. Yang looked like she was flaunting her kills to the very one she’d been sent to hunt. A pretty poor first impression, she admitted. 

“When you say it’s ‘in the blood’…” Winter started slowly, still tense- ready to defend herself- but relaxing by degrees. “Are you a wolf hunting a wolf?" 

"No.” Standing up, she slowly turned and leaned over the woman- the werewolf, in her human form. Closing her eyes, Yang focused, drawing forth her brief flash of anger from before and letting it consume her for a moment before her eyes shot open. 

Winter gasped, pinned in place by what she saw, eventually uttering only a single word. “Dragon.”

“ _That’s_  why I hunt,” she said, blood red eyes with slits holding blue, her vision heightened by allowing her draconic heritage to come to the fore. “I want knowledge, skills, talents, sights, sounds. We’re a… pretty greedy bunch.” Closing her eyes again, she let her eyes revert to normal. “And I understand what it’s like, being seen as a beast, with no concern for the mind beneath.” She pulled back, coughing into her hand. “So… not to say that there’s any in this room besides me… but those of us who tread the line between human and something… different. We don’t  _have_ to be monsters. More often than not, we aren’t. I understand that." Winter would need rest to recover her strength, and none would dare enter Yang’s guest chamber without her being present after one of the servants accidentally set off one of her traps the first day. It would be a safe place for the woman to recoup her energy, so she decided to leave her and do a bit more investigating of her own. "I’m going to hunt for the werewolf tonight. I think I can convince it to… move its hunting territory a bit north. If that fails, I’ll tell the King he just needs to get used to it. The werewolf isn’t harming anyone who doesn’t deserve it." 

Before she reached the door, Winter called out to her. "Huntress,” she said, mustering her strength and pushing herself up. “If you go out seeking the beast tonight, it  _will_  kill you." 

At the threshold, Yang stopped and flashed the woman a smile. "Good. Someone has to avenge all the time I’m going to kill until then.” She waved. “See you later, Miss Winter." 

Shutting the door behind her, the corners of her smile turned down, brow furrowing. She needed to find the Princess; there was more to this story than she’d been lead to believe.

* * *

Yang found Princess Weiss in the throne room, listening to the few petitioners who’d come to air their grievances. The King was busy with his charts in the war room again, leaving his heiress apparent to attend to the duties of actually  _governing_ the country, and she seemed rather pleased with the turn of events. A small smile on her lips as she listened to a group of farmers begging to keep their lands, their pleas brought to a halt by a single raised hand. 

"You needn’t fear. Your lands will remain your own.” Her brows furrowed slightly. “All plans to expand the royal forest have been halted for now and I’m quite certain they will not come to pass.” She tilted her head, the circlet sitting on her brows glinting in the light. “But tell me, please- have you any sightings of wolves or missing livestock recently?" 

"No, Your Highness.” The leader bowed his head. “We’ve not seen the terrible beast of the woods nor any like it. Our herds are safe." 

"I’m pleased to hear that.” Princess Weiss smiled, and given the curious looks it earned her, that had to be a rare event indeed. “Do you line your fields with anything to deter the beast?" 

"Just wolfsbane, Your Highness, to keep the mountain packs at bay." 

Yang smirked from her spot among the onlookers. Such a deceptive name for such a helpful little plant; rather than poisoning werewolves, wolfsbane, among other things, acted as the base for the healing salve that sapped away silver. But better for others to think it might help them, so plenty would be available when it was needed. 

"I do not wish for your fields to be compromised, but I will reward you handsomely for any wolfsbane you’re willing to part with, Sir,” the Princess said. “If we can ring the forest with it, perhaps we can restrict the beast’s movements.”

“We… do have some extra, Your Highness.” He turned, looking at his companions, all of whom seemed to gesture for him to provide a relatively low price. “Three silver for a bushel?" 

Her brow twitched; most places would charge triple that at least. And the Princess seemed to know it, too.

"Three gold it is. Captain.” She turned her attention to a tall redhead standing before her throne with a helmet tucked under one arm. “Take a retinue of guards with you and fetch the wolfsbane." 

Yang watched, closely, the way Her Highness said those words, how she carried herself as she delivered them. In that moment, Yang felt absolute certain of one thing: Princess Weiss had every intention of paying the promised price… and not much else. Looking around, she found the Princess’ erstwhile attendant lingering just behind the throne, in the shadows cast by deep blue curtains framing the gaudy thing. Moving through the crowd, Yang snuck her way around until her path was intercepted by the Faunus in question. 

"You can’t speak with Her Highness right now.” Amber eyes shone with both suspicion and amusement. “Your attempts at being subtle aren’t exactly working, by the way." 

"Maybe I was trying to talk to you?” She flashed a quick smile. “I don’t think I ever caught your name before-”

“Blake.” She glanced over her shoulder as Princess Weiss continued hearing petitions. “And I’ll ask you to keep it brief. Her Highness will be done soon and she has a very tight schedule." 

Yang crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, wouldn’t want to put a dent in makeout time, right?” As a brief flash of panic layered beneath a blush passed over the Faunus’ expression, she chuckled. “Look, keeping secrets around someone who is paid to hunt things down is kinda pointless. And, really, I  _don’t_  care.” Yang’s expression smoothed out. “She knows that wolfsbane doesn’t do anything to wolves, right? Not even direwolves?" 

"I believe she does but Her Highness is doing what must be done to protect her people." 

The hunter hummed, nodding slightly. "Okay. And how long has the crown considered expanding the royal forest?" 

"About five years ago, the King began… accepting donations of land from the people of Atlas.” Blake kept an impressively straight face through those words, the feline ears atop her head twitching only slightly. “But expansions stopped once the beast appeared. It’s not safe for the… workers to break up the farmlands and plant the trees.”

“And that was right around the time Princess Weiss became heiress apparent, right?" 

"Yes… I’m not sure what bearing that has on anything, though.” Blake once again glanced back at the throne. “They’re completely unrelated events-" 

"I’m not so sure about that.” Yang lowered her voice. “In fact, I think they’re  _directly_  related." 

They watched each other for a moment before the Faunus stepped forward. "Her Highness is not the beast you seek and she didn’t unleash it." 

"I know the first part,” she said. “It’s the second part I'm trying to figure out. Because, call me simple, but I’m having a hard time understanding why the King would turn his own child into a werewolf, and then hire someone to kill her." 

” _Weiss_  hired you, for one.“ A smirk curled Blake’s lips, head tilting. "Because she seemed rather adamant that you could figure out the answer to that, for another." 

"So she  _wasn’t_  expecting me to kill a werewolf on the first try?” Yang had almost half a mind to be insulted. 

“She didn’t believe  _anyone_  could kill her sister on the first try." 

”… fair.“ She nodded. "Pretty sure she would’ve got me a few times, too, if I’d been a little slower.” A furrow came to her brows. “So… I guess the obvious questions are: what’s with the secrecy, why not ask her, and is there a particular reason she seems rather intent on killing me?”

Blake looked around, confirming no one thought to pay the apparent handmaiden and hunter any mind, and then nodded further towards the shadows. 

“In order: because the King both wants Winter dead for some reason and refuses to publicly denounce her since it would tarnish his image and he’s dealt with enough backlash over removing her as heiress to the throne- no offense to Weiss, but Winter’s pragmatism served her well. The people and the soldiers loved her and the nobles respected her. As for asking her, she’s been a bit… impossible to deal with the past few months. She doesn’t want to talk about anything that isn’t strictly business. And the last… your guess is as good as mine.” Her ears laid back. “Weiss has been busy, Winter’s absolutely avoided her at every turn, and she won’t look me in the eye much less answer any question I ask. She’s never been very good at explaining her emotions or motivation.” Under her breath, she muttered. “It runs in the family.”

Yang nodded slowly and sighed, tapping a finger against her bicep. “Figured as much." 

Her ears perked up. "So you’ve got a plan?" 

"I didn’t say that!” She chuckled, turning on her heel and heading towards the nearest exist. “Thanks for the help." 

"Wait, Yang.” She looked back at the Faunus. “Weiss believes you can save Winter. Can you?" 

"No,” she replied with a shrug. “Because she doesn’t need saving. She just needs a little help." 

Blake sighed. "Then your job just got  _a lot_  harder." 

Stepping out of the throne room, she allowed her feet to wander while her mind raced. There were only a few ways to turn someone from human to werewolf, and eliminating a bite seemed rather easy, since it would be the most unpredictable method and not one the King would be likely to employ. The other ways ranged from downright insidious to extremely… painful… and some were even both.

She came to a stop in front of the painting, eyes roving over the strokes, the scene; she’d already asked around, finding no other such paintings on display created by the Princess’ own hand, and the King absolutely detested it according to whispers but may not even know it existed according to others. It  _had_  to be special for reasons, something hidden in the composure, in the gleam of the armor or the leaves being whipped by the wind, the comparatively small size of claws and fangs while the swords looked much larger than a man could comfortably wield, the white snow on the ground and the red of fresh blood staining it beside the broken wine bottle- 

Ah. 

"So that’s how he did it.” This wasn’t a painting of the first night the werewolf was found out. It was the night she was  _turned_. 

Yang’s frown deepened, a curse falling from her lips as she turned and headed towards the kitchens. Now, she at least had an idea… but not a lot of faith in its execution. 

Eh. She’d done more with less.


	3. The Hunt

Yang shivered against the brutal cold, flakes of snow catching in her eyelashes as a storm blew in from the north. Everyone had warned her against going out, the low biting wind enough to keep seasoned Atlesians indoors, nevermind a foreigner, but she didn’t let it deter her; she had a mission to fulfill. And she didn’t miss the way the various royals watched her, various looks of obliviousness, wariness, or outright disdain aimed at her during the evening meal. The hunter outright told them the problem would be taken care of that evening; she had the utmost confidence she would make good on that claim. 

Snow crunched underfoot as she trekked deeper into the royal forest, the howling wind the only sounds to accompany her every move. Even the animals of the forest knew better than to be out in this storm but Yang’s hand had been forced. Winter promised death if she went out seeking the beast tonight; to stay in the castle may be seen as a sign of concession. 

“Could be worse.” She mumbled, pulling the furs tighter around her shoulders and hiking her scarf up a little higher. “Could be out on some paradise island on a beautiful summer night." 

A chuckle made its way out into the night air as she trudged deeper into the forest, following a faded trail, the formerly deep depressions in the snow being filled in by the heavy snowfall. Some part of her worried about finding her way back to the castle but she’d brought an extra blanket in the pack settled on her shoulders, mentally prepared to make shelter among the tall trees if it came to that.

Normally, the thick canopy overhead obscuring the moon’s brightness would keep some heat within the forest’s bounds but tonight it seemed disinclined to cooperate. Taking a deep, biting breath of chilly air, Yang called forth her dragonfire to warm her and trudged on, lifting her feet high with every step so she wouldn’t trip. Nowhere in Vale would she find such deep snow but the Elders has taught her all Nature’s quirks and she kept them in mind now as she tracked her prey. 

The wind blew again, blasting her back and carrying her scent ahead of her, just as she wanted. Where her previous forays into the forest relied heavily on stealth, that she might find the beast before it discovered her, now she wanted to be found, doing little to minimize her presence among the trees. The further she trekked, the more assured she became that her plan was working, the tracks she followed showing more and more evidence of pausing, less time for snow to fill them in, and she eventually found the end of the paw marks at the edge of a clearing. 

"Taking the high ground, huh?” She looked up, seeing a snapped branch and evidence of deep gouges in the tree bark from claws. “That’s a good sign." 

Yang moved forward to the center of the clearing, scanning the treetops around her for any sign of the werewolf. For a moment, she thought she might have to resort to a trick of some sort, but then the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, lips nearly pulling back at the uncomfortable feeling of being watched intently, but she managed to turn the expression into a small smile. Eventually, she was rewarded with a growl that came from the south end of the clearing.

"Hey, Winter,” she said, raising her voice above the rush of wind. “Why don’t you come down here and say hi? No reason to be so cold.” Another growl answered her, though this one sounded more like a groan. “Aw, don’t dog me like that! You like my jokes." As a matter of fact, she  _had_  noticed the little quirks to her lips, signs the woman wanted to laugh at her little quips but refrained by the barest margins. "I’d say you're  _over the moon_  for ‘em." 

Finally, Winter jumped down from the trees, landing in the snow with a solid  _whump_. Now with a good, proper look at the werewolf, Yang could see that she easily stood taller than a carriage, even hunched over on all fours, with massive forepaws that could quite nearly wrap around her waist, a snout nearly as long as her arm, and gleaming white claws and fangs all standing in stark contrast to bright golden eyes. Tail and ears up, alert, nose twitching- she looked into the eyes of a beast but somewhere deep lay the woman’s mind, only barely in control. 

Otherwise, she would’ve been torn to shreds by now. 

"Good evening, Miss Winter.” In a show of either utmost trust or absolute foolishness, she bowed at the waist, straightening after the huffed breath from the werewolf. “I know you don’t like me calling you that. I also know why.” A frown touched her lips. “It’s because you feel like you haven’t been a person since you were turned, like you’re nothing more than a beast with a fancy collar when the sun rises. But I don’t believe that; I know you’re still in there. So, please, Miss Winter. Hear me out.”

Nothing flashed in those eyes- no sense of understanding or recognition- but the beast didn’t charge towards her. She took that as a good sign.

“You were turned in what amounts to werewolves as the most heinous method possible. It was developed by warlocks in Vacuo who enjoyed hunting werewolves for sport, forcing people to drink a powerful concoction of blood from several werewolves and turning them loose to fall victim to the new moon. The first time you took this form, you were confused, in absolute agony, and under assault.” She paused, noting the touch of skepticism in the curl of canine lips. “Okay, I don’t know specifics, but stop me if I get something wrong.” She took a slow breath. “The King never intended for you to drink it. He was aiming to poison your mother, set her loose in the castle to be slain by the knights while assassins came for you and your sister, on the off chance she didn’t get to you first, so the whole tragedy could be pinned on the murderous werewolf. Conveniently, he and your brother were away, tending the war front and whims- I’ll let you decide who was doing what.” She offered a small smile. “I’m guessing you swiped the bottle to share, trying to bring a little joy to a life of immense expectations and walking a razor’s edge. But things didn’t work out that way.”

For a moment, the werewolf regarded her before tilting her head back and letting loose a long howl- helpless frustration, confusion, alarm, and a warning to stay away. The same howl Yang had heard periodically through the night’s tracking the beast; the reason wolf packs had moved out of the area completely. Something the other hunters who’d tried to kill her had failed to understand. 

“I won’t pretend to know exactly what you went through, but no one’s been able to tell you, guide you through this. So I’m going to try.” Raising her hands, she began the dangerous approach, crossing the clearing with slow steps. “When you drank what you thought was wine, you entered something of a covenant, though an unwilling one. You were assaulted by the blood memories of many other werewolves, some that may be long dead. All of it mixed together, traditions and cultures jumbled up- like a kaleidoscope of lives all happening at once in your mind as every muscle and bone began to warp, taking a shape you could hardly comprehend in the moment. So you ran.” Another pause. “And Weiss followed.”

Now she turned her head away, ashamed and angry, because some part was the beast- a creature desperately seeking a pack and unable to understand what that  _meant_ , exactly- and some part was the woman- an elder sibling with guilt resting heavy on her soul. 

“You’ve done nothing wrong. By werewolf standards, you’ve handled your transformations with nothing less than grace.” She could’ve sworn gold eyes rolled at that. “Look, think about it. The people you’ve killed? The first were the assassins, realizing your father’s plot failed and looking to correct it. As long as a werewolf howled, any bloodshed would be blamed on the beast, so they chased you and Weiss into the forest to finish their tasks. You killed them to protect your sister; no one holds that against you. All the others? Hunters the King hired to destroy the problem he created for himself, because you’ve done nothing to burden the people. It tells me that, even though you’ve been put in this position in the worst way imaginable… you’re strong enough to overcome it. You’re holding true to who  _you_  are." 

Yang was halfway across the clearing when the werewolf snapped her gaze back to the hunter, a low growl rumbling in her chest. 

"I’m not lying.” She stopped her advance, waiting. “You’re not a mindless beast. You’re not a monster. You’re still Winter." 

Rage flashed across her muzzle just before hackles rose along her shoulders, the snarl making her growl louder, every cue screaming absolute fury.

But Yang held her ground. "You’re angry… that doesn’t make you bad.” For a moment- a very brief one- her gaze deviated, shoulders falling. “You might do some… not so great things when you’re angry… but this is different. You were wronged. And instead of turning that against everyone else, you’ve protected your sister and the people in the only way you can. You  _are_  in there. You  _can_  control this." 

The werewolf launched forward, a single loping stride enough to put her in range, one large paw swiping at Yang. She braced as best she could but still found herself flying through the air, rolling in the snow as she hit it. The hunter quickly bounced up to her feet, hardly having time to throw her arms up as another swipe sent her flying again, grunting and groaning with every hit. 

"You’re not a mindless beast, Winter!” She got to her feet again and brought her arms up. “You don’t want to kill me!" 

A growl answered her as Winter began to pace, gnashing teeth as she watched the hunter, looking for something. When she found it, she jumped forward, bowling Yang over and sending her sprawling in the snow, then a few quick strides got her poised over the hunter for a moment before her jaw opened wide.

She had enough time to get her hands up to catch the werewolf’s powerful jaws, left hand grabbing hold of a lower fang while her right palm got pushed the tender flesh beneath her nose, the pressure doing more for Yang than her own considerable strength. With groans of effort, she managed to regain her feet without the werewolf’s jaws snapping shut on her, which told her more than enough.

"You’re not even trying!” Despite the snow, she kept her footing, twisting her body to keep her hold with every tilt of Winter’s head, keeping them locked together. “This isn’t bloodlust! Trust your instincts;  _listen_  to your inner wolf!" 

Drawing back, the werewolf swiped her aside again, shaking her head at the same time as if confused.

Yang got to her feet yet again, drawing deep, bitingly cold breaths, and quickly took stock of herself. Aside from a bruise or two, she had no injuries, neither claw or fang coming close to scraping her flesh. For a werewolf of Winter’s size, that would be absolutely unheard of, even for a young wolf with little control. 

Another strike, but this time she got to her feet quicker and pulled her silver dagger from her belt, the blade flashing as she raised it up. 

"You need to  _focus_!” The werewolf came to a stop, eyes on the weapon, and she couldn’t help but smirk. “See? You know what this is. You  _know_ , you understand it- you recognized it last time, too. If I hadn’t caught you off guard last time, you wouldn’t have snapped at me, and I wouldn’t have stabbed you. It was fast, it hurt, and I’m sorry.” She flipped it, catching the blade between finger and thumb. “You think you’re a monster? I’m about to prove you wrong." 

Turning, she threw the dagger at a tree, the tip of the blade digging deep into the bark after flipping end over end several times. When she looked back, she held up both arms out to her sides. 

"There. I’m defenseless now- no more silver. You think you’re a monster? Strike me down. A rabid dog would bite a hand that has hurt it before." 

The wind howled, mist flowing freely from the werewolf’s mouth as she stared, first at the dagger and then at Yang. But neither moved. Finally, she tilted her head back and howled again- confusion, frustration, anger and disappointment. A plea to make sense of everything.

"Winter,” she said, as soft as she could. “You’re in control. I promise. I’m not scared- not me, not Weiss, not Blake. We aren’t scared of you. Try to stop being scared of yourself. Just go with it." 

Slowly, Winter padded forward, eyes shut tight and ears pinned back against her skull. When she drew close enough, she leaned forward, pushing her muzzle into Yang’s chest. 

"It’s okay.” A smile curled her lips as she wrapped one arm around the werewolf’s muzzle, the other laying against the top, her fingers brushing through the fur and scratching lightly. “There’s no reversing this. No going back to what you were before. But I know you’ll make this your own." 

As her fingers passed over Winter’s brow, her eye opened, shining blue with hope. 

And… something else. 

* * *

Yang jolted awake, sitting up and looking around. 

In the predawn, she could hardly see anything inside the tiny shed that sat at the edge of the castle grounds, most of the tools that would normally occupy the space missing in favor of a bedroll and clothing hung on a line overhead. The stuttered breathing behind her, however, quickly drew her attention to Winter, lips pulled back in a snarl as her body began to quiver. With the waning night, her form began to shift, and Yang quickly got to her feet and went over to her pack, pulling forth the extra blanket, the one she’d used to cover herself while resting against the werewolf’s side crumpled on the ground for the moment. It was warmer, true, but Winter would expend a fair amount of energy in the transformation process, so the chilled cloth from her pack would probably be vastly preferable immediately after changing. 

Winter’s eyes snapped open, a mix of gold and blue as she scrabbled her claws against the wood, pain evident in her expression while no sound came forth, the first snap of a bone making Yang wince. In time, the transformations would be easier, more natural, but Winter still resisted, stubbornly trying to exert her will at the exact  _wrong_  time to do so.

"Just let it come,” she said soothingly, throwing the blanket up and over the werewolf’s shoulders, earning her Winter’s attention as her back let out a sickening crack. “Don’t fight it. Just… breathe in, breathe out, and let go." 

The werewolf growled, rumbling as the blanket hardly covered the points of her shoulders, but the next moment brought silence, and then… calm. Her eyes closed and the sharp cracks increased, tufts of fur reverting to either skin or hair. Yang immediately directed her gaze up, a light blush coming to her cheeks as she kept a hand on one foreleg, feeling it turn to an arm and doing her best to keep the woman from falling to the floor as her mass decreased. When Winter finally reclaimed her human form, she slumped over in the hunter’s arms, unconscious, and Yang did her best to wrap the blanket around her naked body to keep out the chill. A light sheen of sweat had covered her, the force of her transformation taxing the energy she’d gained from the stag they’d hunted together the night before, and Yang quickly fetched the other blanket after setting the woman down on her bedroll, hoping it would be enough. The storm still raged beyond the little shed, no sign of the morning sun penetrating the thick clouds, and the hunter found herself worrying. Not only was she beginning to shiver, but so too was Winter, and she definitely needed her rest.

"Guess I don’t have a choice,” she said, noting how her breath turned white in the air, more and more cold seeping in now that there wasn’t a huge mound of fur to keep them both warm. “Hope I don’t scare you too bad when you wake, Miss Winter." 

With that, Yang closed her eyes and called forth her inner dragon, the part of her that slept while she remained in her human form, only consciously coming out when she was gripped by intense anger or sorrow. Unlike Winter, she’d been born with the fire inside her, early years spent constantly changing forms and setting fires on accident, coaxed along by her father’s calm, reassuring voice. It wasn’t until much later, when she had more control, that she began living with the Elders, who regarded her scaly form with little fanfare. But they understood the pull that couldn’t be ignored, taught her how to best handle it. They were invaluable lessons.

In a flash of fire that didn’t burn, her human form melted away, and she opened her eyes when her head bumped the top of the shed, horns catching on the struts. She kept her wings tucked close to her long, serpentine body, curling her tail so she didn’t accidentally bust through a wall. Carefully, Yang reached over with her hindleg and picked Winter up, using her tail to support the woman’s head. Then she curled around her, bright yellow scales giving off enough heat to stop her shivering and lull her into a deep slumber. 

Eventually, she would wake and dress, and they could figure out what to do from there. For now, Yang settled so that Winter could see her face upon waking and closed her eyes to lightly doze, nevermind the howling wind and biting cold just beyond the shed’s walls.

Hours passed before Winter began to stir, muttering nonsense to herself as she worked an arm free of the blankets to rub at her eyes. Yang braced herself, prepared for either screaming, hitting, or both- because no one falls asleep with the expectation of a pint sized dragon being there when they awoke. 

Unfortunately, despite her size not even passing as half grown for most dragons, she probably wouldn’t be getting any bigger; half blooded as she was, she had all the powers of her draconic bloodline, just… on a slightly smaller scale. 

Finally, Winter opened her eyes, first seeing the tail wrapped around her and following it until she eventually looked the dragon in the eyes- lilac, now that she was in her full form and at peace.

"Yang?” She nodded. “Good. Otherwise, I might be inclined towards alarm." Slowly, they disentangled, one claw coming up to cover her eyes as the blankets shifted. "Are… you… it’s nothing you haven’t seen before." 

 _On the contrary_ , she thought, not want to risk speaking in her current form. _I haven’t seen_  you  _naked before and… I’m not sure I want it to stay that way… and I don’t want to feel like a creep in the process_ … 

Instead, Yang opened the eye on the other side of her head, locating Winter’s clothes and breathing in deep, letting it out through her nose. Steam flowed from her nostrils, warming the cloth, and she turned her head away to provide the woman modesty. 

"You do realize you’re naked right now, correct?” Most mornings, the woman saw fit to grumble out a greeting and brush past her. This time, she saw fit to  _tease_. A hand laid against her scales. “Yang. I… remember enough from last night. For once, it’s not a jumbled mess.” A light pat. “Thank you." 

She swung her head around, slightly embarrassed that Winter had let the blanket come down enough to be held against her chest, exposing chiseled shoulders and the column of her neck, white hair falling down her back in waves. After only seeing the woman in chin high royal attire and a severe bun, the sight spoke to a softer side, the part of both woman and wolf that had no quarrel with anyone. Slowly, Yang put her head forward, mimicking the gesture from the night before, a way of expressing thanks and trust. Winter hugged her and she closed her eyes, rather liking the sensation; despite her own fearlessness when it came to interacting with werewolves in their beastly form, it wasn’t often the gesture was returned, mainly because she didn’t take the form often for fun. In many places, dragons were still hunted, still feared.

But here… she felt safe, arms wrapped around the top of her snout, the storm outside hardly abating in the early morning.

 "We’ve missed breakfast, you know,” Winter said, some of the seriousness coming back to her voice. “We’ll have to account for our whereabouts. I don’t think my father will continue accepting excuses. He wants me dead." 

Yang felt a smile curl her lips. As it stood, she had a thought or two on that front. Hopefully, Princess Weiss would be cooperative. 

* * *

Yang waited until Winter was fully dressed before returning to her human form, the heat radiating from her scales enough to keep the shed warm in the meantime. 

That, of course, drew some attention, one pale brow arched. "Your clothes remain intact?" 

"They’re enchanted,” she replied, going over to her discarded pack and fishing out her back-up plan: four pastries she’d retrieved from the kitchens the day prior. “Vale welcomes their packs but other kingdoms still remain wary, if they don’t outright revile them. Most werewolves wear enchanted clothing so they don’t wake up naked in the forest; it’s a bit hard to explain away.” She stood up, offering two of the pastries. They were cold and a bit hard but, with a flare of annoyance, warmed to an acceptable temperature. “If you give me your measurements, I can have some made for you. They’re pretty handy." 

"That would be… very kind of you.” Winter accepted the pastries, some of her stiff formality returned now that she was decked out in her usual attire, hair done up in a messy bun. However, when she bit into one of the treats, her lips quieted into a smile. “These are my favorites." 

"I know.” Yang smiled, offering a shrug. “Sometimes, the wolf’s too strong and words don’t get through. Familiar foods, though- that usually does the trick. Even though you’re more likely to crave meat, werewolves are omnivores. You just never catch them chowing down on a salad." 

"You certainly know more about this than I do.” Something flashed in her eyes, concerning herself with finishing off her breakfast before voicing the thoughts. “I still don’t understand what’s going on in my head. The swirling thoughts, it’s just… noise.”

Swallowing down the last bit of her pastry, Yang reached out and put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “That’s okay, ya know. It’s not terrible to be confused every now and again.” At the flat look she received, the hunter opted to change tracks. “Okay. Let’s try something. Go with the first thing that comes to mind." 

"Excuse- you want me to what?" 

"Follow your instincts.” She made a gesticulated, unsure what she might be prompting but hoping for the best. “Go with what you  _want_  to do. Right now." 

For a moment, she thought the woman would reject the idea, but in the next, she found herself bowled over, looking up at the shed’s ceiling from the flat of her back. Then her vision was filled by Winter’s expression, twisted into a scowl as she bared her teeth. 

"Well, this certainly helped clear things up.” She looked away, a growl at the edge of her words. “I’m just a monster." 

"No, you’re not,” Yang said, sighing. “Do you want to rip my throat out?" 

” _What_?“

"Right now. Is that what you’re feeling?” She tilted her chin up. “Go for it." 

A solid minute passed before the werewolf moved, leaning closer… lightly rubbing her cheek against Yang’s and sighing heavily. 

"I feel like an idiot,” Winter said, pulling back a little. “What am I even doing?" 

"Werewolves are social creatures, just like wolves and dogs. They show affection almost the same way.” Pushing herself up a little, Yang returned the gesture, lowering her voice. “You’re looking for a pack. Wolves don’t naturally seek to be alone but you’ve isolated yourself. Your inner wolf is trying to fix that." 

"But… I still feel… dangerous.” She sighed, growling, hands clenching into fists. “Angry." 

"I… don’t think it’s anger." 

"Then  _what is it_?” Winter looked her in the eyes. “Why do I… want to…" 

"Bite me?” Yang smirked and raised a brow. “Haven’t you ever seen wolves, uh, play before?" 

That wasn’t… quite where she thought the woman’s beastly side was leading her, of course, but it would do well enough. Better not to make things any more uncomfortable, especially now that her cheeks were already beginning to heat up. 

"It feels… undignified.” She shifted, huffing out a breath, and then nuzzled closer. “And frightfully antagonistic. I… shouldn’t be frustrated with you, yet I am, and-" 

"That’s just because I’m not playing back.” At the curious look she received, she chuckled. “I was practically raised by them. I know how to play like a wolf.” She tilted her head. “Might mess up your hair, though." 

Winter looked up, towards the window, where snow had accumulated but still showed the dark sky beyond. 

"I suppose a little delay won’t be  _too_  terrible.” She looked back down, a furrow to her brows. “I must make sense of this. I… can’t remain lost in this deluge of confusion and aggression." 

"Okay." 

Almost immediately, Yang twisted her hips, throwing the woman off her and she quickly scrambled backwards, keeping her eyes on her playmate. Sure, it had been years since she’d done something like this, but easily half of the things she’d learned about fighting came from the play she’d used to get up to with newly turned and young werewolves. Keeping on her hands and toes, body low to the ground, Yang waited for Winter to shake her head and get her bearings, a flash of gold in her eyes as her lips curled. They watched each other, waiting.

Ultimately, Yang had to make the first move, because Winter was still struggling with what to do. She darted forward, swiping harmlessly at the werewolf’s shoulder, hardly a tap, but enough to prompt a retaliatory strike, and the two began to trade little swats and playful snaps, both gestures lacking any sort of danger in human forms. Truthfully, they both probably looked a little silly, scrambling and rolling across the floor of the shed, because the movements never looked as natural on a human as they did on wolves and dragons, but they were laughing, teasing, up until Winter bowled her over and pinned her, looming over her, their chests heaving from exertion. 

"There.” Yang gave a breathless laugh. “Feel better?" 

"Much,” she replied, hair falling out of her bun and sweat dripping from her brow. “You’re mine.”

Her breath caught in her throat, waiting to see if the full extent of the phrase registered, but Winter merely drew back, pushing her hair behind her ears.

“We should head back to the castle. Now that I can finally think straight, I know how to deal with Father, at least for the moment." 

"I- I can take care of the rest,” she said, shoving aside her surprise and slight disappointment for the moment. “With your sister’s help, we can beat him." 

The woman stood up, straightening out her coat and smiling. "I believe you.” She offered a hand. “We’re in this together." 

”…right.“ Grabbing the hand, she was helped to her feet, and the hunter- for the first time in a long while- wondered how this job would end. 

* * *

Yang brushed snow from her shoulders as servants pushed the heavy front doors closed, trying to keep the bitter cold out. Fires burned in every sconce and fire place, pits brought out to warm rooms, and the smell of smoke and burning wood hung heavy in the air. One would think that, between the storm and the ongoing battles beyond Atlas’ borders, its King would be too busy to wait by the doors. 

But they didn’t know the man like Winter did. 

"Good morning, Father.” The woman greeted, voice crisp and cordial. 

“Morning indeed,” he replied, a scowl on his face. “Not sure how 'good’ it could be when my top military commander misses a war meeting." 

"I apologize, Father, but given the storm, I thought it prudent to ensure our guest made it back to the castle safely." 

His lips curled into a snarl. "Ah, yes, the hunter, lost in the forest." 

Yang nearly snapped off a response but stopped when she felt Winter’s eyes dart towards her. 

"Father, even our noble huntsmen warned that it would be nigh impossible to navigate in a storm like this.” Her shoulders straightened as she clasped her hands behind her back. “Surely you don’t mean to imply that a foreigner is better suited to traversing our lands than born and bred Atlesians." 

”… quite.“ The King huffed, backed into a corner and conceding the fight. Far be it to let Winter’s suspicious absence slide than give a hint of doubt to the bloodlines of the noble and royal families. "See that it doesn’t happen again.” His gaze shifted to Yang. “And you. Have you done anything except distract my commander? Is that beast still loose in the forest?" 

She could see in his eyes he knew the answer to that but, honestly, she could only feel a keen sting of anger with a man who wouldn’t even call his daughter by name. "Yes, it is, but I’ve figured out how to track it, and lead it.” Yang smiled, raising her arms and voice. “Call for a feast! Tonight, the terrible beast of the royal forest troubles Atlas no more!”

A chorus of cheers went up, souring the King’s expression for a moment before he raised a hand to silence the ruckus. 

“Send word to the kitchens. Tonight we feast.” He turned away, sweeping out of the grand hallway and returning to his war room. 

“Well, that’s part one done.” Yang paused. “Okay, technically, part two, but semantics." 

"I’m not sure this is going to work.” Winter frowned, falling into step beside her as they started towards the throne room. “I don’t doubt my sister will play her part… but do you truly believe the people will go along with it?" 

"There’s a reason your father picked a werewolf; ancient Atlesian legends paint them as purifiers of tainted bloodlines. It’s why he’s been so strict about referring to you as a 'beast’ or 'direwolf’; werewolves are usually seen as heroes.” Her lips twisted into a sour frown. “As your stories go, they’re immortal, rending evil from its roots until submitting to a great hero. I’d guess whoever slays the beast will be given a knightship." 

"Would you stay in Atlas if you were knighted?” The question seemed to surprise both of them though the woman recovered quickly. “I’d imagine you’ve been offered such before. As a hunter, you must be offered all manner of rewards.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s a pretty mixed bag.” She looked out a window at the windswept, pristine snow blanketing the castle grounds, already wiping away all evidence of their trek from the far corner to the castle’s front gates. “Honestly, I became a hunter by accident. Took a few jobs just trying to help out, before I knew it I’d seen half of Vale and had a reputation. Figured I’d keep it going. But I don’t think I’ll take payment for this one." 

"Why not?” Winter came to a stop, pursing her lips into a thin line and looking around. “Even if you have no intention of slaying the beast, you’ve come here, helped more than words could say. You should be rewarded.”

She took a few more steps, then sighed.

“Some things… don’t have a price, Miss Winter.” Turning around, she gave the woman a smile. “Kindness shouldn’t be bought.”

Yang turned back, focusing on her task of finding Weiss. 

“So you won’t stay." 

The sadness she could hear under the simple statement gave her pause, and she threw a smile over her shoulder. "I didn’t say that.” A laugh. “But let’s focus on getting my plan together before we start worrying about my reward.” Winter’s footsteps began following her, setting her at ease. “I’m sure you’ll think of something between now and then." 

"I’m touched by your confidence.” A sigh. “Are you _sure_ my sister will go along with this?"

"Positive,” she replied, leading the way into one of the servants’ passages that lead behind the curtain. The petitions had already begun and the only chance she had of catching the heiress apparent would be to have her ever present attendant whisper in her ear during the breaks. No doubt she’d be headed into town at some point to check on damages done by the storm. “In fact, I think she’ll jump at the opportunity." 

"If you say so." 

They slipped through the passage, emerging behind the curtain in the throne room, and were almost immediately met by Blake. 

"Think you can pass along a message for us?” Yang smiled. “It’s about taking care of our beast problem-" 

"Hold that thought.” The Faunus held up a finger and slipped away, reappearing a few moments later with Princess Weiss hot on her heels. 

“What’s this about-” When her gaze fell on Winter, she stopped and tried again, a bit more calmly. “What, exactly, are you proposing?" 

"I need your help to put this beast hunt to rest-" 

"Will Winter live?” Blue eyes flashed with an unvoiced threat. “Will she survive whatever you have planned?" 

"Yes." 

"Then you have my full cooperation.”

“Weiss.” Expression pinched into one of contrition, the elder sister’s shoulder fell slightly. She stepped forward, drawing the other woman into a hug. “Thank you." 

Although taken off guard, eventually Weiss returned the embrace with a small smile. "You’ve taught me everything worth knowing, Sister. Sometimes, the lessons were harsh, but they prepared me. I’m stronger for it.” She squeezed a little tighter. “I’ll be glad when this nightmare is over." 

"You know it won’t be… over-" 

"I know you are still my sister, day or night. I have nothing to fear, as long as there’s no one trying to mount your head on a wall." 

"It’s good you feel that way,” Yang said, setting her hands on her hips. “Cause you’ll need it." 

That gained her everyone’s attention as she began outlining how the night’s feast would go. 

Ideally, of course. 


	4. The Beast

Yang took a deep breath, watching from the wings as people milled about, taking seats at one of the large tables set up for the occasion. They were set up by class, mostly, with commoners towards the back of the hall, knights and soldiers towards the middle, nobles at the front, and the royal family on a raised dais overlooking all. She didn’t know much about court protocol- not for any kingdom, and certainly not Atlas- but she found it a bit odd that Winter sat with the soldiers and knights while Weiss sat to the Queen’s left, the spot of honor to the right of the King reserved for Whitley, who for all the world seemed rather bored with the festivities. Only those closest to the castle- or already here on other business- attended, meaning more commoners and soldiers than nobles, which worked out in their favor. 

At least, she hoped so, anyway. 

Orange gold light filtered in through the glass windows above, the last bit of the day’s light dying as night took hold. Timing would be important; already, she could see Winter fidgeting, tugging at the collar of her dress shirt, shifting the ceremonial armor and grimacing at the restriction. 

“Do you honestly think this will work?” Blake stepped up beside her, clad in all black and prepared to dart in if something went wrong, her primary concern being Weiss’ safety. 

“I hope it will; does that count?” Yang offered a little grin. “But, yeah. I mean, it comes down to my storytelling abilities, really.” She winked. “Luckily for all of us, I’m pretty good at it." 

Amber eyes watched her for a moment before flicking up to the dying light. "I hope so.” She shifted. “But worst case scenario?" 

"You get Weiss somewhere safe, I cover Winter’s retreat, and we hope that bastard catches a knife in his throat during the chaos." 

"Now  _that_  is a plan.” A chuckle left the Faunus’ lips. “But I can see why you wouldn’t bring it up around them." 

"Schnees are a strange bunch.” She sighed. “It’s about that time.”

“Good luck.” Blake nodded, turning to melt into the shadows while Yang strode forward, smiling and waving to the faces she recognized from her time in the cold kingdom of he north, mentally going over the legends and stories in her head. 

She had one shot to make people believe her and the sort of skills to pull it off, if she could hit the sweet spots at the beginning. 

“Good evening, people of Atlas!” Her voice boomed out, bringing silence to the feasting hall as all eyes turned towards her, mounds of food piled high on the tables. “I am Yang Xiao Long, the Huntress of Vale, the premier hunter of terrible beasts. I’ve faced off against hydras, elementals, sphinxes, demon bulls, and undead monsters.” She swept a gaze across the hall. “I was asked to come and find the creature prowling the royal forest, slay it so that the people of this kingdom might be safe.” She lifted her arms up. “I’m here to tell you now! The people of Atlas have to fear the beast no more!”

Cheers went up, all but a few leveling suspicious looks her way, and she quickly continued before someone could interject. 

“When it comes to otherworldly beasts, the cause is often otherworldly, too. And you have not been visited by a demon boar or a direwolf, no- Atlas has been visited by an emissary of ancient, revered Maiden Skaði.” She paused. “A werewolf." 

Yang’s eyes darted up to the windows, where the light began to fade, as murmurs flew around the hall- excited whispers. Elsewhere in Remnant, werewolves were seen as scourges, but the King- and everyone else, even Weiss’ depiction- had carefully not applied that moniker, not wanting to invoke those old legends. Or, at least, not while Winter had done nothing  _found_  in those old legends. 

"Since the First Kings, Skaði has sent this, her most trustworthy messenger, to possess the faithful and turn their might against the wicked, to keep the royal bloodline pure of corruption.” The last bit of sunshine disappeared and Winter seemed to be in physical pain, trying to stave off her transformation. “I have looked upon the face of Skaði’s messenger and come away uninjured. I promise you this: the Maiden’s fury is reserved for only a few. Do not be alarmed.” She lifted a hand, towards the now darkening windows. “The sun has set on Atlas, and the lives of the wicked. When it rises, the kingdom will be born anew, free of corruption and cleansed by Skaði’s ancient emissary!”

Memorizing the entire speech from the first account of Atlas’ deity releasing werewolves and hellhounds upon the kingdom’s court had taken the better part of the afternoon, but as commoners, soldiers, and knights exchanged looks of mixed excitement and trepidation, Yang knew she’d tapped into the part of every Atlesian that held those old tales in high regard, even if they didn’t offer prayers as often as they should. The King started to stand, likely ready to shout her down or try to reframe the age old legend- funny, that, seeing as it would be the  _exact_  same one he had tried taking advantage of- but Winter had reached the limits of her restraint, pushing back violently from the table and sending her chair flying. 

“From the blood of the First Kings will arise the beast, seeking the blood of those who betray the Old Ways.” Yang intoned, calling upon some of her draconic heritage to lend a bit of deeper tenor to her voice as cracks and pops echoed through the hall. “That reckoning is at hand." 

Soldiers and knights cleared away from Winter as her form shifted, fabric ripping as she grew larger, white fur sprouting while her jaws opened wide, teeth enlarging, becoming fangs- the transformation looked much smoother than just that morning, the little exercises with tapping into her dormant wolf seeming to do wonders. 

Yang admired the woman’s iron will, her determination- to not only accept this part of her but to master it. She fleetingly entertained the idea that maybe, just maybe, Winter would be willing to journey to Vale and meet the Elders. The whole lot would get a kick out of meeting her.

Finally, the werewolf stood, rearing back on her hindlegs before dropping down to all fours and shuddering, shaking for a moment before she lifted her nose to the ceiling and let out a deafening howl. Everyone ducked on instinct, giving the werewolf a wide berth as bright gold eyes swept over the hall before settling on the dais.

Of the four, the reactions were varied and unique. Weiss remained poised and calm, looking for all the world like she’d expected this exact event to unfold and facing it head on with nothing short of fearlessness; combined with her efforts to lessen the burden of her father’s pursuits on the people, everyone seemed to expect such from her, for a clean conscience had nothing to fear in the face of a Maiden’s judgment. The Queen… looked absolutely bored, deep in her cups already, and barely paying the creature any mind as she refilled her goblet. Yang wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t even realize that the werewolf stalking towards the table was her eldest daughter. Whitley… was scared shitless. Face pale as blood drained away, he began to shake in his chair with every scrape of claws against the stone floor. She wouldn’t be surprised if he bolted before Winter reached the dais. 

But the King… rage burned bright in his eyes as he watched the werewolf’s approach, jaw clenched tight; to see his own plan turned back around on him, to see it done so publicly and with the people of the kingdom complicit in the plot… she wouldn’t be surprised if he gave himself a heart attack before Winter reached him.

Yang, however, concerned herself with watching the others in the hall- the nobles and soldiers, the knights and anyone else who might have a silver blade, watching for who else might’ve had a hand in the botched poisoning. None betrayed guilt but more than a few looking apprehensive as Winter past them, relief showing plain when the beast padded away, single-mindedly pursuing her goal. 

Just before Winter set a paw on the dais, Whitley bolted away, apparently not wanting to find out just how much of the beast was his sister and how much was the wolf. With his son fled, the King got to his feet and drew his sword, backing away from the table. 

"Don’t bother with mortal weapons!” Yang called out strolling around the tables nonchalantly. With a flourish, she drew her silver dagger, smeared with fresh blood. “See this? A silver dagger, the bane of werewolves  _not_  imbued with divine purpose. This blade has bitten the skin of the creature you see before you, drank of her blood, yet she remains strong.” Turning to direct her gaze at the King, a smirk lifted her lips. “You cannot strike down a messenger. Not with steel  _or_  silver.”

Winter stopped, turning her head towards the Queen, who remained seated and hardly concerned with the events around her. However, when the werewolf’s eyes fell upon her, their gazes met before the woman reached up, lifting the crown from around her temples with one hand and setting it before her. She then lifted her glass in a mock toast, as if surrendering the field before the battle had truly begun. That seemed to satisfy Winter as she sniffed once at the crown and then turned away, ears laid back and a slight snarl coming to her lips. Whatever quarrels the woman might have with her mother, she didn’t desire to make public spectacle of it, and the concession of her title proved enough for the people to accept, though whispers abounded at what had kept the now former Queen from her duties. 

And then Winter’s attention fell on her father, the King, still holding his sword up, defiant at the last. Yang held her breath, fighting to remain just beyond the dais, wanting to help but knowing she couldn’t. That didn’t make it any easier to stand there, watching the werewolf’s hackles rise, teeth gnashing as her anger rose, her eyes flashing dangerously; the wolf took charge now, the outrage of a myriad of proud werewolves condensed into this new bloodline.

And in that moment, the whole hall saw fear flash in the King’s eyes.

The King hesitated a moment, trying to shuffle his feet towards an exit, but Winter pivoted on her hindlegs, blocking his path. Left no other option, he steeled his nerves, and lunged forward, plunging his blade deep into the werewolf’s shoulder. Winter didn’t wince, didn’t whine, just twisted her torso, sending him flying as his grip on the blade wasn’t strong enough to hold onto it. He hit the ground with a solid thump, rolling from the light toss, the metal of his armor shrieking as it scoured the stone; for as simple a motion as Winter made it look, the King might as well have been a rag doll.

Yang had to hand it to the man. His stubbornness would be admirable, if it weren’t for the fact he had nearly killed half his family.

Unsteadily, he managed to push himself up in time to see what had caught everyone else’s attention. The sword shivered, being slowly pushed out of the werewolf’s body with every breath until it dropped to the floor, clanging uselessly to the ground. The sound echoed in the quiet hall as not a drop of blood fell or stained pristine white fur as Winter lowered her head and snarled. 

“Told ya,” Yang said with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest. “You can’t stop Skaði’s judgment. You earned this." 

The King’s went wide as he got to his feet, drawing himself to his full height. "Winter, you will  _stop this_ , right now.” The werewolf padded closer, snarling even louder. “I am your  _father_.”

Golden eyes burned, jaws opening to put her fangs on full display. 

“Not right now.” Yang couldn’t keep the smugness from her tone, deeply satisfied that the man would now face the repercussions of his actions, but they’d made a deal- her, Winter, and Weiss. For all the pain he’d caused them, the man was their blood relative, even if he didn’t act like it when it didn’t suit him. They were willing to settle for a simple banishment from the kingdom- not forgiveness, not an invite to remain, but they would rather not see him dead- if he admitted to his crimes. She wasn’t holding her breath, though. “Unless, of course, you’re saying  _you_  created the werewolf, and not Skaði." 

The King looked at her then, utter contempt written all over his face. A vein bulged from his temple, pride keeping his lips sealed, for he was the sort of man who would rather die than admit fault or, worse, be remembered as the man who’d poisoned his own daughter in a bid to keep her from the throne- had tried poisoning his wife to keep all of them silent. 

When his gaze moved back towards the werewolf, he sneered. "You haven’t the constitution, mongrel. Not you nor the woman whose skin you wore; neither of you are fit for decisive action.”

The mutters returned and Yang’s smirk grew into a full smile, for the people had a different idea about what their King’s ‘decisiveness’ had wrought than he did, and the soldiers seemed to share the sentiment, coins changing hands as bets were placed. The knights had a little more decorum but Yang could see the glint of a sword or dagger being hidden from view; they were sworn to protect and serve… but they didn’t seem too keen on those vows just then. 

Only the nobles seemed concerned, exchanging glances, eyes darting for the doors, a few looking far more nervous than before. They didn’t seem to think the golden eyed werewolf could be capable of causing them harm but with those eyes filling with bloodlust? It made them… wonder and worry. 

_Good_ , Yang thought, catching the King staring at her.  _They_ should _be worried, should feel as if a failure to do their duties would come back on them in the worst way_.  _Maybe it'll keep them honest in the future._  

“If it weren’t for that accursed Huntress, you’d be lost in the forest,” he said, backing away from Winter until he hit the wall- finally cornered. “Scrounging for your next meal like a mindless animal." 

The werewolf paused then, looking over at her, and a flash of blue appeared in those eyes, ears and tail lifting- almost in recognition. 

"I should’ve had her throat slit the first night she arrived.”

Snarling, the beast leapt forward, consumed by fury. Her jaws closed around one arm, a quick yank of her head popping it out of place and drawing a cry of pain from the man too proud to admit defeat, to back down. Winter tossed him from one end of the hall to the other, teeth and claws rending metal, flesh, and cloth with equal ease, and right then it certainly felt like the woman had completely given herself over to primal rage, infuriated beyond words, beyond rational thought. In all likelihood, the wolf had allowed her to retreat to deep within, sheltering her from the sights and sounds of a conniving man too weak to admit his faults facing his end, and even Weiss couldn’t bear to look, though her eyes remained dry. He’d earned this fate… yet still his children would pity him. 

He truly didn’t deserve them. 

When the King’s lifeless body finally fell to the ground, the werewolf let out a long howl, licking her chops before turning those dangerously flashing eyes towards the rest of the hall. A touch of bloodlust, a combination of the fear hanging heavy in the room and the beast being cornered, surrounded- it would only be a matter of time before she lashed out, made an escape. 

But at the first loping step towards the exit on the far side of the hall, amid gasps and cries of alarm, Weiss darted into her path, arms out wide.

“Your quarrel is not with them,” she said, staring down the creature easily six times her size. “ _I_ am the one to be judged. Take my soul, weigh its worth, spill my blood, but leave my people unharmed." 

Yang’s brows rose, surprised at the earnest conviction she heard in the Princess’ voice. For a moment, she forgot that Weiss had the whole day to prepare what she’d say as she offered herself up to divine scrutiny, but still admired her courage to do so, especially when not nearly as familiar with her sister’s other form. 

For a moment, it looked as though the wolf would not relent, one massive paw rising and preparing to swat Weiss away. 

She didn’t budge, chin tilted up defiantly, and in the shadows behind her, Blake stepped out, worry furrowing her brows- absolutely tense. 

The attack never came, though. 

Winter’s eyes closed, paw lowering to the ground, fur smoothing and ears flicking forward. When she opened them, they were blue again, alight with a deep sort of peace. 

Feigning confusion, the Princess turned a questioning gaze her way, and she smiled. 

"You have been judged worthy, Your Majesty,” Yang said, bowing her head in respect. “Skaði’s messenger bends to your will.” On that cue, Winter lowered her haunches to the ground, coming to heel before her sister. “ _You_  are the rightful heir to the throne." 

Hesitantly, Weiss raised her hand, gasping as the werewolf nosed her gently before she took a step forward, running her hands through pure white fur, nevermind the flecks of blood. Cheers rose from many throats, calls for toasts to be made for the new Queen of Atlas, but Weiss silenced them. 

"There is one left to be judged!” She told them, swallowing down either nerves or excitement- perhaps both. “Blake!” Almost instantly, the Faunus dropped from above, landing in a crouch, on bent knee and with a lowered head. 

“Shall I retrieve His Highness, Your Majesty?”

“No.” Weiss smiled, coaxing her to her feet. 

Slowly approaching the dais, Yang tried to keep the frown from her lips; she didn’t know what the new Queen of Atlas was up to, but they were pushing their luck that things had gone  _this_ well. 

“Great messenger, please. Look into the soul of my closest confidant, the one who had guided my hand when I’ve felt weak and confused, my staunchest supporter.” The woman eyes shone brightly with hope, love, and unshed tears, and the hunter couldn’t begrudge her this, especially with the way feline ears strained forward. “Tell me, oh ancient fury, if she’s fit to carry the burden of noble blood." 

Mutters flew across the hall, a mixed bag favoring the Faunus as servants and soldiers watched with rapt attention. Although kept from nobility and knighthood, there wasn’t a soldier in Atlas’ army that didn’t have a Faunus to thank for navigating during the night or hearing an enemy approach; the war would’ve been lost long ago if the King hadn’t relented and allowed Faunus to join the ranks. Since then, the opinions of commoners and soldiers improved, and the knights and nobles seemed pretty evenly split. Of course, these people mainly came from the lands just beyond the castle, where Weiss had the most influence. The change would take time but patience was a virtue of the Schnees- if only out of sheer stubbornness.

Winter, for her part, perked her ears up, then lowered her head, sniffing at the Faunus before her. 

Yang had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing as the werewolf’s tail began sweeping across the stone, wagging- Blake may as well be part of the family, because it seemed the wolf part of her had already deemed the Faunus part of her pack. 

Then she pulled her head back and nodded. 

"Very well. Blake?” Weiss turned towards her companion- her accomplice and friend, a smile on her lips. “You have done more for me than I can say. You’ve shown me how to be a better person and- and what love truly feels like.” She lowered herself to one knee, holding both of Blake’s hands in hers. “I can think of no one better to stand beside me and help lead Atlas to a brighter future. And I can think of  _no one_  else I’d want to wake up beside in the morning.” She paused, unsure if the tears beginning to stream down Blake’s face were ones of joy or sorrow but continuing anyway. “You are already the light in my soul. I believe you can be the light that guides us all. Blake, will you be my Queen? Will you marry me?" 

Swiping at her face, the Faunus mustered her composure for a brief moment. 

"Yes,” she replied, a watery laugh bubbling up in her throat. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes." 

She fell to her knees and threw her arms around Weiss’ neck, sobbing and laughing and reaffirming her answer until the woman caught her lips with her own. 

The hall burst into a cheer- not as loud as when Weiss was proclaimed Queen, but there all the same- and Winter lifted her muzzle in a long howl, Yang lifting her fingers to her mouth and whistling, clapping in between. 

Okay, so, apparently, she’d overestimated Schnee patience, but no matter. It seemed like everything would-

The slam of a goblet against the wall startled people into silence, backing away from the nobleman standing now atop a table, glaring at the dais with utmost contempt, the sigil painted across his breastplate seeming alive with the way his chest heaved in his rage. Yang’s expression soured and she cursed herself for relaxing too soon.

"Lord Winchester,” the Queen called out, rising to her feet with her fiancé standing close behind her. Blue eyes darted to the wall, sticky sweet honey mead wine dribbling down the stone. “You’re cleaning that up." 

"I’ll do no such thing.” Winchester boomed out, somehow remaining firm as Winter began to growl. 

Yang pushed her way through the crowd towards the dais, trying to draw as little attention as possible. Not because she thought the brat deserved to continue but because the last thing they needed would be for it to appear like Weiss might not have absolute control of the situation. 

“Usurping the throne by divine right is one thing but I’ll not bend the knee to  _an animal_." 

Blake’s expression darkened but Weiss held up a hand, gaze sharp. "Tell me, Lord Winchester. How are your fields?" 

He blinked, apparently caught off guard. "They’re… fine?" 

"Are you certain of that?” Her eyes shifted to further down the hall. “Flynt Coal! If you’re here, step forward now." 

A bit of murmuring and shuffling preceded a man stepping forward, his coat patched in a few places but still rather nice, chin tilted up as he answered the call. "Here, Your Majesty." 

"How are the fields in Lord Winchester’s lands?" 

"Your Majesty, they are recovering.” He bowed his head. “The extra hands Your Majesty sent assisted in repairing the destroyed structures caused by the dam break, but the water did a fair amount of damage before it froze. We’ll have to reassess after the first thaw." 

” _That_  is exactly the sort of detail I look for when I ask my stewards how their lands are faring.“ Weiss’ gaze returned to Winchester, a scowl coming to her brows. "So, to recap, you dare decry your future Queen when you yourself act more like a lazy mutt huddled by a fire than a man with a mission and charge?" 

"I- Your Majesty, such trivial concerns-”

“The concerns of my people are  _not_  trivial, and I’ve spent  _weeks_  on end hearing their troubles, wondering why some of you hold your posts when you seemingly have no interest in attending the duties that come with them,” the Queen said, drawing the slim rapier from her hip. “Flynn Coal! Come here. Kneel before your Queens." 

The man hurried forward, falling to a knee before her, head bowed in respect. Lightly, Weiss tapped the flat of her blade again his shoulders, letting it linger on his left. 

At the same time, Yang reached the dais and buried a hand in white fur to soothe the wolf, though Winter hadn’t taken her eyes from Lord Winchester yet.

"Do you, Flynt Coal, swear to uphold the laws of Atlas, to look after the people of your lands with care and compassion, to be their sword and their shield, and to speak up in their defense to _whoever_ might cause them harm?” The emphasis rang clear: she was not above reproach, and she now charged him with keeping  _her_  in line as well. 

He looked up at her, meeting her gaze to ensure they understood each other perfectly. “I swear." 

The wolf stopped growling as Weiss nodded. "Rise, Lord Coal, as the steward of the Northeast Hold.”

“Those are  _my_  lands,” Lord Winchester said, heat to his voice as he clenched his hands into fists. 

“Not. Any. More.” Weiss replaced her rapier at her hip and offered a hand to the man before her, welcoming her newest noble with a smile before returning a severe look to Winchester. “I’ll not be a tyrant; I’ll not force you to do anything. You wish to not obey the rule of Atlas? Then we don’t need you here. I hereby revoke your lordship, your citizenship, and give you two weeks to gather your belongings and leave this country.” She looked at Lord Coal, then Blake, then turned the other way to see Winter and Yang. A smile came to her lips then. “Atlas must change and grow. We must walk, together, into a brighter future- one of peace and equality. If that’s not a journey you wish to partake in, I’ll make it an easy choice for you. Leave, Cardin. Your kind- the narrow minded, the self centered, the selfish- are no longer welcomed in Atlas." 

"Let it never be said your sister does things by half measures,” Yang said, a chuckle following as Winter nuzzled against her side. Everyone save for the nobility raised their voices in cheers, a new hope sparked in the people’s hearts. 

The prospect of an end to the constant conflicts, a period of resting and rebuilding their kingdom- they wanted it more than anything and now here it sat, in their hands. 

Lord Winchester- or, rather, Cardin’s face turned bright red as fury engulfed him. He took a few steps forward, reaching for his belt even as royal guards started towards him, ready to remove him from the hall. But he had no weapon on his hip, nothing but a pouch with a sigil Yang recognized, from somewhere, Vacuo maybe? 

Eyes flashing red, she called forth her superior draconic sight to study it as he pulled the pouch open, and that’s when it clicked: the symbol of a brotherhood stitched into the pouch. 

A brotherhood of warlocks.


	5. The Killing

Yang didn’t need to think. 

She pushed away from Winter and began charging for Cardin, hardly catching sight of the little vial glowing with some sort of hex. 

On the upside, it meant he wasn’t a warlock, because those sort of contained spells weren’t designed for magic  _users_ , always running the chance of reacting to the magic running through a warlock’s veins. 

On the downside, though, it meant there was no stopping the damn thing from being released as he tossed it towards the dais, neither Blake nor Weiss familiar with such devices to know that the little vial spelled their doom. 

So the hunter did the only thing left to her- she jumped, diving to intercept the projectile, hoping the enchantments in her furs and armor might protect her and counteract whatever was in the vial as the fragile glass broke, liquid fire splashing against her chest. 

But that was a touch too optimistic. 

She fell to the ground, a scream tearing from her chest as lightning ran throughout her body, weaving agony in its wake. Her dragon magic emerged, but a touch too late, now fighting a spell designed to paralyze its target and torture the person in the prison of their own body, images at the edges of her vision, old faces she hadn’t seen in years lingering just out of focus.

A growl loud enough to rattle  _bones_  echoed in the room before screams joined hers but she couldn’t parse what happened, writhing against the stone floor as she regained and lost her mobility in turns, all the while trying her hardest to ground herself in the moment. 

“Huntress!” A voice called, alarmed and worried, and then hands were on her somewhere. “Yang, can you hear me?" 

Was that someone else or the same person? Her hearing started suffering, whispers sounding like those long dead with words- what were they saying? 

Where was she? 

"Call for the castle healer! Any healer! Any witch or wiz-" 

"Stop your screaming.” A tired voice drawled as it came closer. “It’s giving me a headache." 

Yang didn’t dare open her eyes; she could feel her body trying to shift, because taking her dragon form would increase her innate magic, would make fight back the hex so much easier, but the hall was too crowded. If she swung her tail, she’d likely send people flying, and she couldn’t keep her human form still at the moment. It was too dangerous and the last thing any of them needed was a dragon showing up- a creature often seen as a bad omen in Atlas.

At the same time…  _everything hurt_. 

"Stop your thrashing and look at me.” Her eyes opened to see the former Queen looming over her, a frown on her lips. “Ah, a dragon. That would explain why you’re still alive. Now open your mouth.” She pulled her lips back, hoping it would be enough to display why that was a bad idea, her teeth already beginning to enlarge and sharpen into fangs. “Try harder, you overgrown lizard.”

“Mother.” Weiss- it must’ve been her- warned as the shouting and growling stopped. “I’m quite certain Winter is fond of her-" 

"Then she can thank me in the morning. Open. Up.” The hex worked deeper, into her chest and stopping her heart for a moment before her dragonfire ignited, restarting her heart and singeing the woman’s hair as a burst of fire left her lips. “I should’ve expected that.” Fingers like steel traps grabbed her jaw, holding it open. “This will only take a moment." 

Whining- high, keening, conveying worry and concern- drew closer to her. 

"Keep her back." 

"That’s… going to be difficult,” Blake said, though shuffling followed. 

In the next moment, Yang’s world narrowed to the excruciating sensation of lightning and fire being drawn up her throat and out her mouth, the hex and her own magic sucked out so forcefully  _beyond_  unpleasant, and she tried to struggle against the grip holding her jaw open. 

However, with the hex still somewhat in effect, she couldn’t seem to get the muscles to cooperate, forced to do nothing more than scream as it felt like her very soul was being pulled from her body. 

“Mother,  _hurry_!" 

"We can’t keep her back!”

A few more moments that drug on like small eternities before Yang felt her body slump back to the stone, unsure when her back had arched like a bow, coughing and hacking as her whole body ached. 

“Ha- hah- hag,” she said, blinking up as her inner dragon chased away the lingering lightning running through her veins. 

“ _Excuse_  you, she just saved your life. I think." 

"Hush, Weiss; she’s not insulting me.” The woman looked into her eyes, nodding and immediately reaching for her wine. “The stories never differentiate, but hags are witches who specialize in manipulating magic rather than casting it.” She took a deep pull, shaking her head and rubbing at her temple. “Don’t tell me you’re so optimistic as to think this is the  _first_ time your father- or one of his cretins- has tried killing any of us with tools they hardly understand; the damned fool only got me to marry him with a love potion. He’s always been a puppet in the hands of those thrice blasted warlocks in Vacuo, just like half the court." 

Her chest still burned, but it lessened in degrees as she recovered, having lost some of her own strength in the process. "Does tha… wine help with…”

“It keeps the magic I ingest from taking hold; the stench of alcohol masks the smell created by potions of my own." 

"So  _that’s_  why father left that poisoned bottle for you? He was trying to take away your own weapon  _and_  poison you in the same stroke?” Weiss appeared at the edge of her vision, quickly overshadowed by Winter sticking her face closer, sniffing at Yang. 

The older woman paused, making a noise in the back of her throat. “I honestly thought he knew; I’d never drink from a bottle other than my own. I wonder how many others are poisoned." 

"Did you just  _leave them_  there?" 

The werewolf nosed at Yang’s hand until she weakly lifted it up, resting it on white fur stained red by blood. Even in her weakened state, she could see that Winter was unharmed, and relief more profound than being released from the hex flooded through her.

"Well,  _I_  wasn’t expecting my daughters to raid my wine cabinet when my back was turned." 

Winter pressed closer, nosing her chest and waist, whining softly as she moved her hand to scratching along the werewolf’s jaw. 

"That’s a  _terrible_  excuse!" 

"Hey… are you okay?” Yang’s voice was hoarse and scratchy, eyes falling shut for a moment. Winter whined in response, nosing under her shoulder, as if encouraging her to sit up. “I’m fine… tired, but fine." 

"I’ll keep that in mind,” the woman said, getting to her feet unsteadily. “Now, congratulations on your ascension to the throne, I wish you happiness in your impending union, and I’ll excuse myself from the festivities. I’d suggest you take the Huntress to her rooms; she’ll need to recover her strength.”

“I can… get there myself.” Pushing herself up to her feet, Yang leaned against Winter briefly to gather her strength. “I’ll just-" 

The werewolf growled, shooting a look at her sister, which was somehow immediately understood. With a gesture towards her fiancé, the two somehow transferred Yang from her own feet to sitting astride Winter’s shoulders. 

”… uh-“ 

"Are you  _really_  about to argue with her?” Amber eyes glanced down briefly. “I don’t think you’ll win the fight in your state." 

"Guards!” Weiss yelled out, waving over two men with spears in their hands. “Escort them to the Huntress’ quarters. Neither of them are… in a position to open doors." 

"Yes, Your Majesty." 

"Don’t  _I_  get a say in this?” Her lips lifted in a weak smirk before slumping against Winter’s neck. “Ah, nevermind. A night in a bed sounds good.”

With that, the werewolf carried her out of the feasting hall, people stepping out of her way and bowing their heads in reverence, more than a few whispering quick prayers for Yang to recover her strength. 

She hardly registered much after they left, lulled into semi consciousness by the easy rocking motion of the werewolf’s gait. It stopped only once, accompanied by a growl and the quick shuffling of the guards, moving to go down a different hallway than before, into a part of the castle Yang hadn’t been in before- the royal wing. 

Everything looked nicer if more… impersonal. Were it not for the guards leading the way and Winter bearing her weight, she might’ve passed the door by completely, hardly able to see it among the pristine white walls. 

The antechamber wasn’t much better, with everything in its place, if a bit more… damaged, poorly concealed claw marks combined with a fine layer of dust and the musty scent of a room abandoned stinging her nose. Considering she’d spent her nights in the woods and mornings in the shed, Winter probably only came into the room to change clothing daily and avoid suspicion.

The guards excused themselves, at first trying to offer their assistance in moving Yang to the bed and finding that wasn’t appreciated, considering how the werewolf began growling. 

“They’re just tryin’ ta help, y'know.” She drawled, sliding from Winter’s back and fumbling with the straps and buttons to her furs and armor, letting them fall to the ground and resolving to tidy up when she awoke. The night air bit into her skin, making her shiver as she bent over and pulled at the laces of her boots, which were quickly latched onto by Winter, fangs lightly digging into the leather and tugging. “Heh, thanks, Miss Winter." 

A growl answered her as the other boot was pulled off. 

"I’ll keep calling you that until you come up with something different.” Finally, she laid back, sighing deeply and cracking her eyes open when she felt the bed dip. 

Although far larger than perhaps the bed could comfortably fit, Winter got up and settled down beside Yang, clearly intending to remain there until she’d recovered. 

“You can go back to the feast,” she said. “I’m sure you’re hungry." 

The werewolf deeply sighed, settling further into her spot. 

Yang laughed. "Take that as a no. Alright. See ya… in the morning." 

Letting go, she fell into a deep slumber, surrounded by warmth despite not having drawn the covers over herself. 

* * *

Yang woke slowly, warm and comfortable despite the irritation along her right side. So exhausted from the ordeal, she hadn’t even removed her prosthetic, and had rolled onto it sometime during the night, the metal biting into her chest a mild discomfort she could ignore during bone weary slumber but not outside it. However, trying to move immediately became a bit difficult, seeing as an arm was draped over her waist, holding her in place, and her breath caught in her throat at what she might find if she rolled over. 

"I’m awake… to an extent,” Winter said, though the words were soft at the edges, warm breath hitting the back of her head. “And I’m wearing clothes." Relieved, she shifted and rolled onto her back, finding the woman beside her in a long shirt that went past the swell of her hips, a contrast to the thin shift Yang wore under her armor and the leggings she couldn’t have gotten off the night before due to lack of energy. "I find your sense of modesty odd, for one raised by werewolves.”

Her lips curled into a grin. “Just because we’re a bunch of beasts doesn’t mean we can’t be civilized about it.”

Winter chuckled, a bright sound in the early morning that made her grin grow; from the stories she’d heard upon arriving in the royal city, she wouldn’t think it possible. Surely, half the kingdom thought the entire royal family had no humor at all, but now it seemed that the removal of the dark cloud lording over them gave each the ability to relax, be happy. Weiss obviously wasted no time securing her own happiness; her sister would likely follow in time. 

Which actually brought up a thought. 

“What happened to your brother?" 

A frown tugged at her lips as the woman looked away briefly. "He fled. I don’t know any specifics but I can… smell it- fear, panic, on the south wind. He’s running and I’m not sure when he’ll stop." 

"Are you going to chase him?” It probably wasn’t her place to ask. She hunted fearsome and fantastic beasts, not people, but her eyes were glued to the woman’s expression. 

“No,” she said, eyes unfocused for a moment before she closed them, sighing deeply as she turned into the mattress. “He’ll return, someday. Either to beg forgiveness or avenge our father. We’ll be ready for him.”

“I’m glad you’re confident.” Yang reached over and detached her prosthetic, sighing in relief. Her shoulder needed time to recover before she got up and faced the day. “He might run to Vacuo. But those warlocks don’t like when their toys get taken away." 

"We’ll deal with it when it comes,” she said, shuffling closer and laying an arm across Yang’s stomach. “You should rest. You deserve it." 

A few moments of silence passed, a hundred thoughts ricocheting around inside her skull. "I should start packing." Winter immediately stiffened but she pressed on, staring at the intricate moldings on the ceiling above. "This job’s done. I’ll need to go report back so no one else comes up here trying to kill you. Plus, I can visit the Elders-" 

"You could send a messenger for that." 

”… I could.“ 

"But you won’t.” She pushed herself up, scrubbing at her eyes. “I suppose there’s no reason for you to stay, now." 

"And it upsets you.” Winter glanced at her, then pointedly directed her gaze elsewhere. Slowly, the hunter sat up, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder. “I know it feels like you’re going against who you are, but you have to adapt to this new side of you. Wolves are social and very vocal; they communicate everything with their pack.”

“I don’t even know what that  _means_.” Frustration colored her tone, brows pinching together. “I don’t have a  _pack_ ; as far as I know, there are no werewolves in Atlas besides myself." 

"Your pack isn’t just other werewolves.” She licked her lips. “Think, right now, if the castle was under siege. An army just outside the gates, swords looking for throats to slit. Who would you rush to protect? Weiss? Blake? Servants? Soldiers?" 

Winter’s expression darkened, a flash of gold in her eyes as she tensed, lips pulling back in a snarl. The idea of a threat called to both the elder sibling and the wolf within her, and she replied readily. "Weiss and Blake, yes. Klein. James. Healer Goodwitch…” then blue eyes turned her way. “You." 

Yang nodded, not at all surprised. But that didn’t make it easier. "Packs stick together, usually. You see me as part of your pack; it’s only natural to be upset that I’m leaving." 

The woman stood, pulling away from her touch, shaking her head as she paced. "That… it doesn’t feel right. There’s something else. More.”

To some extent, she knew. Humans were weaker creatures- adaptable, resilient, yet ultimately brought down by their own failings- but wolves were sure, steady, they understood their place in the world intrinsically. The wolf in her knew what she wanted… or was at least willing to accept inclinations. 

Shortly after turning, after accepting the mantle of werewolf, it wasn’t uncommon for… mistakes to be made, to bond with someone out of gratitude or overwhelming- but, ultimately, short lived- affection. Being the one who helped Winter, of course their bond would be strong… but was it true? 

Yang scratched at the back of her head, looking down at her lap. On the one hand, the werewolf might genuinely want her as a mate… on the other, it could be the byproduct of confusion and stress, a need to have someone- anyone- as a partner.

“Miss Winter… I have to go,” she said, watching the woman stop her pacing and look back, a slump to her shoulders. “It’s for the best." 

"I don’t believe that,” she replied, expression smoothing out into polite stoicism, so very much like when they’d first met, minus the aggression. “But I understand I can’t change your mind.” Pressing her lips into a thin line, Winter turned, retrieving a robe and sliding it over her shoulders. “I’ll see to the arrangements myself. You should rest while you can; the packing I’ll leave to you, but I’ll have a mount and provisions ready when you decide to depart." 

"Thanks." 

Just before stepping out of the bedchamber, the woman turned and offered her a genuine smile. "Thank  _you_ , Yang. You’ve done more than words can say and I’ll never be able to express the depths of my gratitude.”

Her heart clenched but she offered an answering smile all the same, watching as Winter slipped out before collapsing back against the mattress. 

In the back of her mind, she wondered if she was making the right decision. She liked the woman- the gruff soldier dedicated to her mission, the elder sibling drawing their father’s ire to protect her sister, the proud soul learning to show weakness with grace- and with every turn, she discovered more facets, more layers, and each called to her. Yang could fall in love so quickly and it had burned her before; she’d nursed a broken heart, being left behind for one reason or another. And Winter was the sort of person she could fall for, if she hadn’t already.

But the doubt lingered. She was a hunter, an adventurer, a warrior scarred from battles- not someone fit to sup with nobles, and she couldn’t even be certain Winter truly cared for her. It could just as easily be clinging to someone who understood during a period of uncertainty. A lifeline. 

Distance and time would tell, and she had her own... unique heritage to consider. The winter was settling in, days becoming shorter, and the fiasco with the hex had nearly robbed her of her remaining strength. In Atlas, she would be seen as a monster, and the last thing she'd want would be to bring down fearful condemnation upon the royal family so shortly after surviving their harrowing ordeal.

She was making the right decision. 

For a moment, Yang cast her gaze around, unsure if she wanted to try sleeping a bit later, but she had to shut her eyes. On the dresser, there were little trinkets- bobbles from the southern tips of Atlas, effigies of deities, the sorts of tokens people would give to someone to wish for safe passage- and tucked up in the corner of the vanity mirror was a child’s rendering of the royal family with ‘me’ scrawled above the middle child’s white ponytail. 

If she allowed herself to look around… she might never leave. 

“My job is done. Other people need my help,” she said, rolling onto her left side and massaging her right shoulder. “This’ll pass." 

In a few years, maybe she’ll come back out this way. If not for a job, then just to pass through. Maybe she could pen a letter to Blake- the Faunus seemed inclined to discreet communications, given how hard and long she’d worked to keep her relationship with Weiss as secret as either of them could manage. And when she returned, saw Winter standing tall beside her chosen mate, she would be happy for her. Werewolves mated for life and Winter seemed loyal before that. 

Whoever she chose would be lucky. 

Yang shut her eyes, and dozed lightly, entertaining a dozen daydreams. 

* * *

The wind blew softly- cold, but bitter only in spurts. New flags flew from every rampart- the old heraldry discarded in favor of a white snowflake on a black field, a wolf’s head with a crown between its ears above- and even some of the guards and knights had their uniforms and decorations swapped out for the new design. Weiss’ reign was only three days old but the eagerness to embrace her rule was more than telling and her mother, now sober more often than not, provided the wise council she was once so well known for, though she yielded readily when the reigning Queen stood firm.

Yang sighed, her breath coming out in a puff of fog. Early morning in the Atlas winter meant weak light and short days but the people seemed in high spirits, bowing and waving as the little procession made its way through the royal city, towards the southern gate. She’d tried telling them the fanfare wasn’t necessary- rarely did the people who hired her personally walk her to the gates for a farewell- but the Queen insisted and there was no talking her out of it. Her head went bare, bereft of the crown of her forefathers, and she’d yet to decide if a new one would be made. Somehow, she’d managed to convince Blake to wear the former Queen’s, and Yang had to smile at the way the woman had done her best to keep her composure while suggesting it while Blake blushed madly. In hindsight, the Faunus should’ve probably expected so ostentatious a courtship favor, belated though it may be with the wedding on the way. The royal couple led the little procession, smiling and waving to the people they passed, pausing for a step or two to bend an ear.

Behind them, Yang shuffled along, lead in hand as a horse easily worth more gold than she’d ever carried on her person marched behind her- had to be a war horse, alert and on guard, proud and stubborn, all the headstrong might of a stallion packed into a mare that promised fierce retribution to any who provoked her. Honestly, Yang thought they’d get along swimmingly, especially after the first chuff at her hand, the horse’s dark brown eyes almost daring her to do something- as if she could sense or smell the dragon’s blood in her veins. To her left, Winter strode purposefully down the thoroughfare, chin up and shoulders back, bedecked in her best dress uniform with new, silver pauldrons attached to a white cloak with golden trim- a foolhardy decision, perhaps, but one that sent a clear message of resolute fearlessness. It likely wouldn’t kill her, but if either pauldron touched her skin, it would burn, even in human form; Yang found herself admiring the werewolf’s absolute determination, even if it was ill advised. 

"You look good.” The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them, a blush rising in her cheeks as she tried to make herself sound a little more articulate. “I mean- your new armor. It looks very good on you. Strong, dependable, warm." 

Mentally, she slapped herself, but Winter offered a wan smile. "Thank you, Yang. I’m glad you approve.” She nodded ahead of them. “Weiss thinks it’s reckless. I think it sends a message." 

"That every cloud has a silver lining?” She grinned, lips pulling wider at the startled laughter that burst into the morning air. Winter hadn’t laughed like that in the past few days; she wasn’t entirely humorless, but she’d been subdued, morose. It felt good to see her in higher spirits. “I think it’s a little of all three. And it’s good to see you smiling again." 

"Strange, I think, that you’ve known me so little, you think the absence of a smile is odd.” She shrugged- carefully. “Yet, you know me best of any.”

“Do I though?” She tried to play it off but a voice whispered in the back of her mind: she  _did_ know, that the person most people saw was an act, that though she’d been cold and stiff before it wasn’t born of personal choice but necessity. Winter could be kind, warm, encouraging… she  _did_  know the person beneath the mask. “But you… know a few things about me, too." 

"Yes. I know the blood in your veins, the strength of your convictions, the height of your intelligence, your perceptiveness- you were forced to grow up quickly. I assume you helped raise and teach some of the new werewolves, acted as guide and guardian.” Winter paused. “I’d like very much to hear what stories you might have to tell." 

Lilac eyes fell on the city gates. "I’m afraid none of them are short, and our time is." 

"Permit me my fantasies,” she replied, expression turning a touch somber. “A goodbye isn’t painful unless you’re never going to say hello again." 

"Who told you that?” Yang thought back on… a lot of goodbyes and found herself unable to agree fully. 

“It’s an old saying. Hopeful, I suppose.” Winter glanced her way. “I suspect you see it differently.”

“The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said and never explained.” Tears stung at her eyes. “That’s from experience. Doesn’t matter if it’s the last one or not.” A hand laid on her shoulder, bringing them to a brief halt. 

Winter’s brows pinched together, voice soft. “You are strong, not just for the power in your arms or the scars you bear.” Her right hand clenched, though only for a moment. “Your strength comes from rising above the pain others have put you through, and not letting it darken your heart." 

"I guess.” Again, doubts swirled. She’d given Winter reasons for her leaving… but they weren’t the whole truth, now were they? Was she just repeating history? 

“Yang.” She met the werewolf’s gaze- blue, with a hint of gold about the iris, a sure sign the two sides had started to find their balance. “I understand why you’re leaving.” She paused. “I don’t  _like_  it. I don’t  _want_  it… but I understand your reasons. And it’s not like you’re slipping off in the dead of night." 

"I think that’s more your bag.” The words left her mouth before she could think better of it, surprising both of them. Lips tugged up before both of them started laughing, bringing the rest of the procession to a halt.

“I- I have to admit, you have a fair point,” Winter finally said after reining in her amusement. “But I do try to give warning now." 

"Just give it a few more years.” They started walking again, Weiss and Blake throwing little looks and whispers back and forth. “Once you can change at will… now  _that_  will be when giving heads up matters." 

"I realize this may come off as selfish…” Winter paused, weighing her words before speaking. “But I’ll admit I wish I had someone to help me in the time to come. It’ll be difficult, being alone." 

"You won’t be alone. You have your pack,” she swallowed, offering a small smile. “I’m… I’m still with you, even when I’m not here." 

The werewolf looked at her, nodding solemnly. "You will be indeed.” The corners of her lips tugged up. “You’re a very difficult person to forget, Yang." 

She gripped the reins a little tighter as they approached the gates, trying to keep the words locked behind her teeth, but they tumbled out all the same. "You’re pretty remarkable yourself, Princess.”

Weiss had restored her sister’s title first and foremost, once again putting the elder sibling as heiress apparent, though she’d joked once or twice about only having the title for the next two decades, if that. Given the way Blake had blushed, she’d be willing to bet that charge wasn’t too far off. 

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I prefer 'Miss Winter'." Her expression tightened, gaze turning away. “Promise me you’ll try to be careful. Invest in some enchantments to repel hexes, or perhaps a shield?" 

"I’ll pick one up. Just for you.” She shouldn’t have said that. Yet she did and found herself sharing a smile with Winter just before they passed through the gates, Weiss and Blake awaiting them on the other side. “I suppose this is it, Your Majesty.”

“The end of one chapter and the beginning of another one,” Weiss said, offering a brief hug- which took Yang off guard, though she quickly recovered, returning the embrace. “You  _do_ realize you’ll be welcomed in Atlas, correct? Whenever you might deign to return, our borders and our castle will be open to you." 

"Thank you, Your Majesty.” Yang nodded, then turned to Blake, who also embraced her. “And, uh, Your Majesty?" 

"Just Blake is fine.” The Faunus gave her a little smile that seemed to hint at a tease. “People like us should stick together." 

What that meant, the hunter had an idea and rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, Just Blake." 

Her shoulder was shoved lightly, a small laugh following that brought a smile to her lips. Then she turned towards Winter, unsure what to expect. 

After a pause, she stepped forward, offering a hand. "Farewell, Huntress. Thank you, for everything." 

She grabbed Winter’s forearm- a warrior’s gesture. "My pleasure, Your Highness." 

They held each other there a moment, looking into each other’s eyes before breaking contact, both tight lipped. Yang turned, opting to lead the horse a bit further up the road before mounting, and dragging her feet in the process. 

A weight slammed into her back, arms wrapping around her chest as she staggered forward. Looking over her shoulder, she found Winter’s face buried in her furs, eyes shut tight and teeth grit as one pauldron pressed against her cheek, grey smoke wafting up. 

"I know you can’t stay. I know I can’t go.” Her voice, soft, hardly rose above the din of the royal city awakening, but Yang heard every word. “But if you ever return, I will be here for you. You can  _always_  come back." 

She laid a hand on the arm about her waist, sighing. Yang turned in Winter’s arms, letting the lead drop and returning the embrace. She simply couldn’t ignore the powerful pull in her chest.

"Follow your heart. Listen to your wolf. You’ll find your path.” She pulled far enough away to run the backs of her knuckles against silver burned flesh, allowing some of her dragon magic to leak out and speed along the recovery process. Wouldn’t be good for the people to see their divine werewolf sporting a fresh silver burn, after all, and she'd been sure to leave some of the balm and its recipe with the royal family to avoid just such instances. The way Winter leaned into the touch had nothing to do with it. “If you ever come to Vale for business, ask for the Elders. They’ll welcome you as a sister.” She paused, debating. “And they know the quickest way to find me." 

"I’ll keep it in mind.” She drew back, reluctant to break contact but doing so all the same and offering a small smile. “Safe travels." 

"Hunter’s luck,” she replied, grabbing the abandoned reins and going off, mounting up and beginning down the road, the horse’s steady gait comforting, but only so much. When she got to the top of a hill- right before the bend that would hide the heart of Atlas from her sight- she looked back. 

Winter stood there, watching her, and the pain in her heart confirmed at least one thing. Regardless if the werewolf saw her as a packmate, a playmate, or a lifemate, Yang had already started to fall in love with her. 

She pulled on the reins and gave the horse- Ember, she decided, that would be a good name- her head, launching them both into a full gallop towards the coast. 


	6. The Prize

Yang sighed, looking down from the top of the hill outside the royal city, hiding as best she could in a tree. She could still see the southern gates rather well and the newly erected statue outside it, though the figure’s back was turned. When reports of all sorts of horrible beasts began to pour in from Atlas, the Guild had reached out to her, unable to tell truth from fiction at first, but her experience quickly revealed most of the requests as being fake. Then, they suddenly stopped about a month ago, and the worry that the reports weren’t fake rose, nearly suffocating her at times. 

“It’s a nice town,” Ruby said, pushing back her hood. Here, in the late Atlesian spring, she didn’t need her heavy hooded cape but wore it anyway, the deep red not as out of place as it would’ve been months ago when snow covered the ground. “The castle looks cool." 

She remained silent, watching the the dying light receded. Maybe this was a mistake. 

"Yang?” Her sister’s brows pinched together. “Are you having second thoughts?" 

She nodded, slowly. 

"Good.” Ruby adjusted the pack on her shoulders. “You always rush ahead when you think brute force will do the trick, but you play your cards  _just right_  when you really care about the outcome. I think that’s a good sign.”

Yang couldn’t help but roll her eyes, not nearly as confident. 

“Hey, I’ve had to watch you mope around for six months. You wouldn’t have done that if saying goodbye didn’t hurt like hell, and  _you_  were the one who left. Seems pretty clear to me that  _someone_  is a little hung up, and even if it  _was_  for the best, it’s better to know than to wonder, right?” The dragon really couldn’t argue with her sister’s logic. “So I’m going to go down there, ask how the royal family is doing, and we’ll go from there.” Silver eyes glanced up at her. “Although I really think you should do this yourself." 

Yang winced. Honestly, she agreed, but… not like this. She wasn’t strong enough. 

"Welp, here I go!” Ruby started down the path. “Wish me luck!”

The dragon watched as her sister marched down the road, putting all her energy into her senses- hearing, seeing. She didn’t want to be too close for fear of someone catching sight of her, but neither could she wait for Ruby to return. Her sister would do everything to soften the blow if it turned out they’d come all this way for nothing. 

But when she got to the southern gate, Ruby froze, then hurried around to look at the statue, the stone hardly coming to a head taller than herself. 

“You must be new here,” someone said, a gruff laugh following as a man carrying a bundle of wood into town set his load down for a moment. “Need directions?" 

"Ah, no, but this… she looks familiar.” Ruby reached up and scratched at her cheek. “I don’t suppose you know the story? The statue looks new but that could be deceiving." 

"Oh no, it’s a recent story, and one we all know… pretty well?” He sighed. “Not many details but it’s not hard to piece things together. Might make ya sad, though." 

"Did she die?” Brows pinched together, a frown on her face, but Yang knew her sister better than that. A feigned response, but good enough to fool the woodcutter. 

“Nah, I suspect the Huntress is still out there somewhere. See, almost a year ago, people started seeing a terrible creature in the royal forest. Didn’t cause anyone trouble but the King at the time took offense to it bein’ in  _his_  forest. Sent hunter after hunter, with dogs an’ spears an’ swords, but none could slay the beast.” He gave a laugh. “Most o’ ‘em were the King’s men, a bunch o’ bullies and 'holier than thou’ brigands. Good riddance, the lot o’ 'em; the ones with any sense stayed out of the forest; knew what was good for 'em,  _and_  us.”

“Kelsey, don’t you have a wife to get home to?” A new- but familiar- voice called out, Ruby and the woodcutter turning to acknowledge the man striding towards them. He looked a bit better than the last time Yang saw him- newer clothes, though not nearly as ostentatious as those worn by the man he replaced- and his smile looked genuine. “You shouldn’t stop every visitor to tell them the story." 

"She asked!” Kelsey defended, crossing his arms over his chest. “Plus, the more people who know, better chance she’ll come back, right?" 

Lord Coal sighed, shaking his head. "I’m… not so sure that’s a good idea." 

"I really did ask for the story, Sir,” Ruby said, a genuine furrow in her brows. “I didn’t mean to cause problems." 

"It’s not that. Run along, Kelsey; I’ll take it from here.” Lord Coal helped the man gather his wood, giving him a pat on the back and waving him off. “I think introductions are in order. I’m Lord Coal, steward of the hold, servant to Their Majesties Queen Weiss and Queen Blake." 

"Oh, I’m Ruby Rose!” She tried to curtsy, though the attempt looked awkward at best. “Enchantress and hunter from Patch." 

The man frowned, brows raising to nearly his hairline. "Are you… a member of the Hunters’ Guild in Vale?”

“Yeah.” Ruby offered him a small smile. “We received a lot of reports about terrible beasts here in Atlas, and then they just… stopped. I decided to come by and check it out." 

"I’m sorry about that.” He sighed, and Yang thought she saw a bit of shame in the hunch of his shoulders. “I guess you know Huntress Xiao Long." 

"Yeah,” her sister replied. “I’m afraid I don’t know all of what happened here, though." 

"Kelsey mentioned the beast we had in the royal forest- the former King wanted it killed, so Princess- now Queen- Weiss sent word to your guild. Huntress Xiao Long answered the call.” Lord Coal made a motion towards the statue. “But she had no intentions of killing the beast. Instead, she helped, allowing the werewolf to regain some of her humanity; she was turned into a monster by her father and set loose, to kill the rest of the royal family. The beast the King wanted dead was his own daughter, a monster created by his own hand." 

"That’s awful." 

Lord Coal nodded. "He was a dark, twisted man. Thankfully, the Huntress was kinder, and sought to soothe Princess Winter’s inner beast. Now, the Princess travels as a wolf during the night, protecting our herds and homes. And when there’s nothing else to do… she comes here.” His gaze followed the road beyond. “The Huntress left after the King was usurped and Her Majesty Queen Weiss crowned. Ever since, Princess Winter remains a stalwart commander during the day… but at night, she howls mournfully and watches the road, hoping the Huntress will return.” He ducked his head. “At first, we sent missives to your guild, trying to bring the Huntress back, but when Her Highness found out, she asked us to stop. She worried that other Hunters might come, seeking the rewards, and be angered when there was no beast to slay.” A wince crossed his face a he reached up, rubbing at his neck. “She also seemed rather… convinced the Huntress won’t return, no matter what we try." 

"Does she not want Yang to come back?”

Her breath caught in her throat, surprised at how quickly they’d arrived at the answer she  _had_ to hear, attention ripped away from the ache in her chest at the news of Winter… seemingly giving up on her. 

“Oh no, I think she’d like it  _very_  much.” He gestured towards the statue. “She likes the statue. We put it here after she asked us to stop sending missives; we even have its hand outstretched, so she can rub her head against it. We don’t really know why the Huntress left… but it’s pretty clear the Princess misses her terribly, even if she won’t say it.” Lord Coal paused. “The Queens know. I made mention of the Huntress not too long ago and they seemed equally stymied by the issue." 

Winter… wanted her to come back? But wouldn’t let others call for her?

It made sense- Yang had chosen to leave; it should be  _her_  choice to return- but she couldn’t quite believe it, even as the last bit of light faded from the sky. With a bright, full moon overhead, a howl boomed out from the castle in the distance, and Yang quite nearly jumped out of the tree. 

Wolves didn’t 'speak’ in the same manner as dragons but she’d spent too long running with them to mistake what she heard. Sorrow and loss, yes, but more: a pledge. 

_I’m still waiting for you. Please come back to me._

"No need to be alarmed; that’s just the Princess.” Lord Coal sighed again. “I wish there was more we could do for her. During the day, she seems fine, but at night…" 

"Werewolves don’t lie very well,” Ruby said, shrugging her shoulders. “Sounds like she misses Yang. Has she gotten close to anyone since the Huntress left?" 

"No.” Lord Coal chuckled. “Not for lack of trying. Every noble in the land- and a good amount otherwise- have come to the castle for balls and feasts since Queen Weiss assumed the throne, and she’s been… cordial. Princess Winter even looked rather pleased during her sister’s wedding.” His expression fell. “But no amount of courting has caught her eye.” Looking around, he bent his head closer, keeping his voice low. “The servants say that Her Highness doesn’t sleep in her own chambers anymore. But neither does she slip into their’s; she slumbers, when she can, in the guest room the Huntress used during her stay.” He straightened up and adjusted the cape pinned to his shoulders- the only overt sign of his status. “With all respect, I hope whatever the Huntress is doing is worth it.” He glanced behind him, where the faint sounds of nightly greeting was beginning to get louder. “Only a fool walks away from someone so loyal.”

Yang didn’t,  _for a moment_ , think he was wrong. 

“You know the difference between a fool and a wise person?” Ruby offered a little chuckle. “Someone bothered to prove the wise person right.” Then she nodded across the way, down the main thoroughfare towards the castle. “Some sort of festival?" 

"That’s the royal family,” he replied. “Sometimes, the Queens will accompany Her Highness before her hunt.” He looked off to the side, at a bag he’d apparently brought and set down before approaching the newcomer. “If you’ll excuse me." 

Lord Coal went and retrieved the bag, opening it up and pulling out a thick, raw slab of meat. 

"Is that for Her Highness?” Ruby frowned. “I thought she hunts at night?”

“Not for herself.” He gave her a little, sad grin. “Any kill she makes at night is left for the butchers in the morning. I don’t think she needs to eat… but she at least _will_ this way." 

Steadily, he walked over and set the slab of meat down on something- had to be some sort of plate being held by the statue’s other hand- and then stepped away, beckoning Ruby to follow as the procession neared. 

Truly, it wasn’t a procession- no guards, soldiers, or knights surrounding them- but considering the current royal family was present, there likely  _should_ have been one. Queen Weiss lead, occasionally looking around but mostly watching her wife at her side, heavy with their first child. Queen Blake waddled at a leisurely pace, ears flicking and likely more alert for danger than her wife, though she probably couldn’t do much in that regard. Behind them, Winter padded along, head and tail down, and her mother just a bit further behind. Obviously sober, the former Queen marched proudly, scanning the area and nodding to those who acknowledged her, on hand resting on a glittering handle to some sort of weapon. 

But Yang’s attention returned to Winter- her posture screamed unhappy, though with a word from her sister, she perked up, gaze falling on Ruby. From the distance, she couldn’t quite see what color her eyes were, but she’d be willing to bet they were a perfect mix of blue and gold, a sure sign both sides of her were united and whole. Her heart ached, wanting to leave the tree and rush forward, but she couldn’t. 

"Evening, Your Majesties,” Lord Coal said, bowing. “Your Highness.”

“Good evening, Lord Coal,” Weiss replied while her wife tilted her head. “And who’s your friend?" 

"Oh! I’m Ruby Rose!” Again, her sister tried to curtsy, this time tripping over her own feet and falling down to her hands and knees. “Uh, Enchantress! Your, um, Majesties?" 

Yang sighed, a fond smile on her lips. She loved her sister, but she’d never really gotten the whole 'polite talk wit nobles’ part down. 

Winter padded forward, lowering her head to push her nose up under Ruby, helping her to get on her feet… and then pushing forward, forcing the young woman to stumble back. 

"Winter!  _What are you doing?_ ” Weiss, alarmed, rushed forward and sank her fingers into thick white fur, trying to pull the werewolf back to no avail. “I- I apologize, she means no harm-" 

"Oh, I know!” Ruby laughed. “She just smells my sister, that’s all.” Winter’s head snapped up, eyes wide and body perfectly still. “You heard me right.” She nodded. “Yang’s my sister." 

Winter’s tail immediately began to wag, whining loud enough for Yang to hear from her spot in the tree and drawing the attention of anyone not in their homes. 

” _You_  are Yang’s sister?“ Weiss released Winter’s fur, allowing her to bounce around, clearly resenting her inability to speak. "Wh-what brings you here?" 

"I’m looking for a few answers,” she said, directing her gaze to the werewolf. “She would ask the questions herself, but just like the moon holds sway over  _your_  form, the sun holds sway over  _hers_." 

Her ears perked before they fell, gathering her haunches beneath her and sitting down. 

"Your sister has another form?” Blake’s brow furrowed. “Is she a werewolf too?" 

"No.” Ruby glanced around, seeing the curious people gathering around and raising her voice. “My sister, the Huntress Yang Xiao Long, is and has always been… a dragon.” Murmurs immediately flew, surprise registering in many voices, but… not the horror she expected. Ruby glanced towards the tree, a hopeful smile on her lips, before she continued. “I know dragons are not often seen as peaceful creatures in Atlas, but in Vale, they can be protectors and helpers, great creatures of remarkable power and kindness, _if_ they’re treated right." 

"That’s why she doesn’t kill every beast she encounters!” Weiss smiled wide, relieved, as if finally handed the last piece to a puzzle she’d worked on far too long. “She knows what that’s like- to be judged as dangerous immediately." 

"She really does, and that’s why she doesn’t want to talk to you herself.” Ruby gestured around them. “During the winter solstice, maintaining her human form is hard, but she had to for a ceremony, and for most of her time here when your nights ran long. Now she’s… well, weak, and she can’t take human form for extended periods of time just yet. It’s safer for her to stay out of sight right now." 

The people all looked at each other, muttering, until one voice rose above the rest.

"The legends never said werewolves could be tame.”

Lord Coal nodded, seeming to catch onto the intent and raising his voice to capture everyone’s attention. “Yeah, the legends said they’d kill until slain, but Her Highness does nothing but protect us! Who’s to say a dragon would bring us harm? Especially one who helped us in the past!" 

A chorus of affirmations rose up and Winter looked up, gazed upon her people with hope, until her sister raised a hand to bring silence.

"Then we’re all in agreement?” Weiss called above the din. “We welcome back the Huntress, no matter her form?” The people cheered, a chant beginning to call her back, but the Queen rose her hand again and demanded silence. “Please, Enchantress, take word to your sister that Atlas welcomes her no matter which form she takes,” Weiss said, turning her head. “Someone, send for the guards and knights, and spread the word however you can; let all the kingdom know that they are to harm  _no_  dragon that enters our borders!" 

Yang could hardly believe it. 

Was it really that simple? 

"Oh, I can do that! Right away!” Ruby turned, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted at the top of her lungs. “YANG! YOU CAN COME OUT NOW!" 

The dragon needed no further prompting. Carefully unwrapping herself from the trunk of the tree, she spread her wings wide, breaking branches, and gave a mighty heave, launching into the sky. Many gasps followed her appearance, the shuffling of startled people, but as she glided to the gate, none ran. They watched, spellbound, as Yang landed just behind her stone likeness, tucking her wings close to her body and lowering her head to the ground- as nonthreatening a pose as she could make. 

Winter wasn’t concerned with the people, though. She sprang forward, rushing headlong and pushing solidly into the dragon’s shoulder with enough force to knock her on her side. 

Yang swung her head around, finding herself nose to nose with a  _very_  excited werewolf, tail wagging and blue gold eyes shining bright. 

With a scaly smirk, Yang reached out, speaking directly to Winter.  _Guess you missed me, huh?_  

The werewolf immediately rubbed their muzzled together, just as people began to recover and even cheer.  _More than you’ll ever know._  

* * *

Yang stirred, roused by the morning light drifting in through the shed’s windows as much as by the low growling. She lifted her head from where it rested on her coils, to see Winter resisting her change, nestled comfortably among the dragon’s scaly body. Largely a practical concern, Yang surmised, seeing as a human in her position ran the risk of being crushed, and she carefully shifted so the werewolf could crawl out and begin shedding her form. 

Summoning all the strength she had in her, Yang reverted to her human form as well, the process slower thanks to her lack of strength. Warmer months, when the sun shone brightly, were much easier on her than colder ones, and she’d foolishly attended the ceremony in Vale’s capital as a means of taking her mind of the Atlesian Princess- to no avail, mind. Now, despite the warmth of spring and longer days in Vale, she'd yet to fully recover her strength.

By the time she’d become human again, Yang felt short of breath, laying on her right side and taking huge gulps of air to try and get it back. Winter pressed up behind her, nose burying in her hair as a calming touch smoothed down her side. 

"You’re okay.” Framed as half statement, half question, her voice remained soft in the early dawn and Yang couldn’t help but press back into her.

“Will be.” She turned her head, blinking bleary eyes to see Winter, white hair cascading over her shoulders and eyes still that bright blue gold. “Good morning-" 

” _Don’t_  call me 'Miss Winter’,“ she said, a hard edge to her voice, though she softened immediately after. "Call me your… friend. At the very least." 

Yang felt a frown tug at her lips before she pushed forward. Maybe it was being tired, weak from the lack of sunlight, or just relief at being welcomed back, but she acted, pressing her lips against Winter’s in a chaste kiss that would’ve ended the moment she pulled back, except she was followed, rolled onto her back as the werewolf settled atop her. Their lips remained pressed together as her hands came to rest on Winter’s hips, warm skin beneath her palms, and fingers brushed her cheek while the other supported her companion’s weight. 

When they broke apart, both a little breathless, Yang kept her gaze firmly locked on Winter’s eyes, a blush rising in her cheeks as she consciously reminded herself to not look down. 

"I’m… uh, not too keen on just being friends,” she said, lips lifting in a weak smirk. 

“Well, it isn’t  _my_  ideal either, but I opted to start small.” Winter leaned down, bumping their noses together. “You said I had to give you something else to call me." 

"What if I call you mine?” Yang’s tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Dragons are covetous creatures, y'know.”

The fingers against her chest took firm hold of her jaw and directed her into another kiss- slow, languid, sweet. “I’ve been yours, Sundrop, since before you left." 

That  _didn’t_  exactly spark the sort of comfort it probably should’ve. Did the bond not break? Had she come back too soon? "How?" 

The doubts melted away as Winter drew back to look at her, serious expression and fiercely flashing eyes. 

"You saw in me something I didn’t believe I had. When it felt like I had no control anywhere in my life, you gave me courage, focus- you showed me that I wasn’t helplessly subjected to what others inflicted upon me. Just by believing in me, you gave me strength.” Her expression softened, leaning down to nuzzle against Yang’s cheek. “How could I  _not_  fall in love with you?" 

"Heh, well when you put it like  _that_.” Tears stung at her eyes. “So you’re… not mad about me leaving?" 

"I understood your motives.” Her lips curled into a wolffish grin. “I didn’t like them, didn’t believe them the way you did, but I’ve admired your headstrong determination to stay true to your aims. When you stood in the throne room and declared you would bring an end to my father’s plight, I’ll admit I loathed the idea… but I respected your conviction and certainty, admired it even." 

"I’m glad I made such a good impression." 

The grin faded, blue gold eyes drifting off to eye the neatly folded clothes off to the side- obviously placed there ahead of time but not the sort she’d usually wear, far more casual, roughspun thread and a pair of breeches. 

"I… truly didn’t believe you’d return. Hoped, of course, but… I likely didn’t give you quite the same impression.” She cringed. “I apologize for my snappish behavior when you first arrived. I… wasn’t quite myself.”

Yang hushed her, thumbs running small circles in smooth skin, eager to run through fur at some point, to know all the textures that could be associated with the Atlesian. “I don’t hold it against you; you shouldn’t either. And you’re selling yourself short.” She shifted slightly, only a touch embarrassed- more because Winter was still very naked than the topic of conversation and she was mighty tempted to glance down. “Do you… want to get dressed first?" 

"I’m tempted to think you’re a bit prudish, Sundrop.” Another nuzzle before she moved, reaching for the clothes and prompting Yang to close her eyes. 

“Hey, I just know how to save the good stuff for later, Snowdrift,” she replied with a little chuckle. “I wouldn’t want to spoil the wedding night." 

Winter made a thoughtful noise as cloth shifted. "Snowdrift?" 

"Yeah. I think it’s cute.” Yang’s lips pulled into a wide smile. “I came up with it a few months ago. I kept thinking- that’s what I want to call you, what you are to me. You look pristine and solid on the outside, but there’s so much depth just beneath the surface, and all I want to do is dive in, find the soft snow and the hard ice beneath, the biting cold at first and the heavy warmth after." 

"And here I thought  _I_  was being clever.” The warmth of Winter’s body returned, pressing against her side. 

“I brought the enchanted clothes for you, by the way.” She opened her eyes, though she was tempted to simply return to slumber at this point. 

“Perhaps a touch late for that, isn’t it?” Winter placed a kiss just beneath her ear. “It’s not like I plan on spending my mornings anywhere except at your side." 

"For  _my_  sake, will you wear them?” She turned her head, caught in a kiss as soon as she did so, and she’d nearly forgotten how affectionate werewolves could be, especially young ones. “Just for a few months? I’d really like to court you properly; you’re a Princess, after all." 

"Yet you’re the queen of my heart,” Winter replied, though she gave a little huff at the end. “I’ll wear them, if only so you don’t turn into a tomato every morning." 

"I like this teasing side, very attractive.” The dragon’s breathing hitched, her focus slipping and her form nearly shifting back, but she caught it in time. 

“Sundrop?” Worry infected the werewolf’s tone, lightly rubbing at the center of Yang’s chest. “Are you alright?" 

"Maintaining this form is… difficult.” She offered a weak smile. “It’s fine-" 

"Change back.” Winter pressed a kiss against her cheek. “You need to recover your strength." 

"I won’t be able to fit out the door as a dragon." 

"Then we’ll stay here for a few days. I can run and fetch us whatever you wish.” She paused, expression lighting up in the next moment. “Or, come outside, and I’ll show you something." 

"Show me something?” Curiosity piqued, Yang pushed herself up. “Like what?”

Mischief flashed in blue gold eyes as Winter helped her up, leading her by the hand out of the shack. Spring in Atlas still ran much cooler than in Vale, making her thankful for the warmth provided by her furs and armor, and the addition of the werewolf at her side helped. 

“Take your other form, Sundrop,” she said, having pulled on simple boots as they exited and taking the opportunity to squeeze her waist one more time before backing away. “Dragons have no need to fear Atlas." 

Yang smiled, relieved as she let go and transformed, stretching her wings out wide and yawning- gestures she’d normally keep to herself, considering how fearsome a yawning dragon looked to the casual observer. 

But when she opened her eyes, Winter was there, excited and proud, beautiful and free. 

_… I’m ready when you are_ , she said, speaking directly to the werewolf and offering a reptilian smile when she didn’t even bat an eye.

"Follow me.” Winter turned and began walking through the fields. 

Yang followed close behind and dipped her head low, listening intently as she recited little stories from her youth, legends turned bedtime stories, and a few of the more amusing near disasters that had occurred while they’d been apart, including the werewolf chasing one particularly foolish noble out of town herself after he’d made a rude comment about Blake. 

On the ramparts, lilac eyes picked out the surprising new additions, unfurled sometime during the night: banners bearing the white snowflake on a black field, a white wolf above… and a yellow dragon curled below. It seemed Weiss had remained optimistic regarding her return. Guards passed with new yellow sashes over their chests, waving to the two, but none harassed them, and even the knights with their yellow badges greeted them cheerily. 

It felt surreal still, even as they came around to the back of the castle, where brilliant, brand new stone stood out against its weathered counterpart, oak doors standing taller than even Yang’s impressive height. 

“Here.” Excited anticipation shone brightly in her eyes as Winter gestured towards the wood. “Open the doors." 

With a furrow to scaly brows, Yang reared back on her hindlegs and grabbed onto two huge brass knockers and pulled. The sound of many cogs and chains being moved plus the squeaking of hinges rang out as the doors opened, revealing a large, open room just beyond, with smaller, human sized doors at the back wall. On the floor, a mural depicted a yellow dragon curled around one side of a circle with a white wolf on the other, the whole surface polished and smooth. 

"It’s not finished yet,” Winter said, gesturing around. “Rather bare and all, but it’s a nice start, I think.”

_You did all this? Not even knowing if I’d return?_  

“It was a multi-purpose project.” She offered a small shrug. “Our soldiers have fought for so long, they haven’t any other useful skills. Weiss called for any craft masters to come and over see the project; they taught the soldiers, gave them valuable lessons, a chance to be something other than a soldier.” Hands clasped behind her back, gaze scanning the high walls and intricate moldings in the ceiling. “We opted to have it sized to accommodate a dragon without telling the workers; they thought the scale purely provided for multiple rotations of masters and students to work side-by-side.” She looked back at Yang. “But… I did have hope." 

Dropping back down to all fours, she walked forward, circling around the emblem and settling down.  _I like it._  

Winter approached, running her hands along the scales under her chin, down her neck to her right arm, the enchanted prosthetic.

"One day, I’d like to hear the story,” she said softly, sitting down against the dragon’s chest. “How long will you stay?”

_How long will you have me?_  Swinging her head around, she lightly set her nose on Winter’s lap.  _I could train hunters, you know. All sorts; Atlas has no guild yet but that can change. I can teach them to be kind._  

“You could respond to some calls yourself; I could go with you." 

_I think I’d like that._  Her eyes fell closed, content and weary.  _But could you really stand the life of a Huntress?_  

"The better question is: do I want a life without you?” Lips pressed against her scales. “And the answer is: I’ll do whatever it takes to be at your side, Sundrop. That’s where I belong. I know that." 

Yang’s eyes opened slightly.  _Do you?_

But the werewolf didn’t falter, eyes flashing gold for a moment. "You told me to listen to my wolf. I did.” She leaned forward, resting her forehead high against the dragon’s snout. “You’re my mate, Yang." 

_Wolves mate for life._  She held her breath.  _Are you sure you want me?_  

"It’s very telling that you ask that.” Winter drew back, a frown touching her lips. “You worry I may be rushing forward but what of you? I’m sure, even if these feelings aren’t returned-" 

_They are._  Yang winced at how quickly she spoke, betraying her own hopes.  _It’s just… my… own mother didn’t want me. It’s hard, sometimes, to think anyone else could._  

Silence filled the room and she closed her eyes, the old wound never quite healed. 

"One day, I want to know your life as well as I know mine.” Winter sighed, anger at the edges of her eyes but pushed away in favor of calming reassurance. “Regardless of others’ poor decisions, I’ve had plenty of time to think on this.” Again, she drew the dragon’s head close with a light touch. “I’m yours, Sundrop. However you want me.” She wrapped her arms around Yang’s snout as best she could. “You are kind and sure, compassionate and decisive- you had every chance to make things easy on yourself and you took the harder path for my sake, for others’. Falling in love with you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done, and I’d not change it for the world." 

Yang curled her tail around the Princess, the best approximation of a hug she dared to give while in this form.  _No one’s accepted all of me before. Bits and pieces, yes, but not everything. Not all of me._  

"Consider that changed.” The dragon relaxed, pushing forward just slightly. 

_… I do…_

Doors opened and Yang cracked an eye to see who had entered the room, finding none other than the Queens striding towards them. 

“The room in to your liking, I take it?” Weiss was hopeful, caught between rushing forward and remaining with her wife, who seemed on the verge of being annoying by the doting. “It could be a sleeping chamber, a living quarter, a ballroom- however you want it furnished." 

She tilted her head, considering her options.  _A living space-_  

"Wha-” Weiss ducked her head while Blake went ramrod straight, both looking around. “What was-" 

"That’s just Yang.” Winter chuckled, obviously amused by their reactions. “Her voice is a little different in this form." 

"Well I’ll say!” Weiss straightened out her cloak. “A little  _warning_  might’ve been nice." 

"I’ll admit, having four ears and not hearing  _through_  them is an odd experience." 

The dragon lowered her head to the ground apologetically.  _Sorry._  

Blake’s expression smoothed out a moment later. "It’s fine, Yang." 

"Oh, yes, of course.” Her wife nodded vigorously. “Just… startled, that’s all.” She coughed into her hand. “You were saying?" 

_A living space would be nice._  She cringed.  _I’ve… never actually slept on a hoard. Guess I’m not a very good dragon._  Seeing an opportunity, she swung her head towards Winter, nudging her side.  _I’m more prone to collecting beautiful people, not things._

"I hope I’m at least near the top of that collection.” A hand stroked along her brow. You’re the crown jewel. 

She smirked.  _The only Princess for this dragon._  

“Very well, then; I’ll notify our carpenters, see what sort of furniture they might be inclined to make.” Weiss turned away, muttering to herself. 

_That’s… going to take_ a lot _of wood._  

“We’ve been using the expanded parts of the royal forest, clearing them away to return the land to its rightful owners,” Blake said, a bit of pride in her voice. 

“A solid plan all around." Winter glanced at Yang before patting her cheek. "I’m quite certain we’d both like a little more rest. We’ll join you for the midday meal as best we can." 

"We’ll take it in here,” her sister said, seamlessly breaking off her train of thought. “I’ll notify Mother and Ruby; I think a family meal is in order to mark the occasion." 

Yang smiled.  _Yeah… sounds good._  

Curling up, the dragon waited until her companion had comfortably seated herself among loose coils, leaning back against Yang’s belly, before she laid her head down and closed her eyes, basking in the morning sun streaming through the windows. 


	7. The End

Yang fidgeted all through the meeting, sitting beside her wife and trying her damnedest to appear like she wasn’t counting the seconds. Normally, she’d have no problems at all providing her expertise, especially for such a unique problem as a rampaging unicorn driving people out of a forest along the western border; they were usually docile creatures, preferring to flee rather than fight, but this one had wounded six woodcutters and chased off a few children. 

Quite frankly, she thought the villagers should just leave the unicorn alone and come back in a few months, but that was neither fair nor right. 

“Has the unicorn left the forest at all?” Winter, equally anxious, managed to maintain her composure moderately better. Outside the window, the moon rose high in the sky, yet she remained in her human form. The intervening years had greatly improved Winter’s control of her inner wolf. The moon didn’t hold the same sway, but she still turned once the sun set as opposed to remaining human, and they often ran through the forest together- up until recently, anyway. 

All things considered, it spoke volumes to the woman’s iron will; they’d painfully gone through the flashes of memories she experienced upon first turning and tied them to ancient werewolf bloodlines. Yang still could hardly believe it. Winter now stood as the last bastion of several old packs, ones driven to extinction by the Vacuon warlocks who stole their blood, some of the most fearsome werewolves to ever roam the land now sharing a blood bond with the Atlesian Princess. They’d been captured and tortured to madness before being released, spawning the many terrible stories that survived to present day regarding werewolves as a whole, and how Winter hadn’t immediately began carving a bloody path through Atlas when she first turned mystified not only the dragon but the Elders, too. They’d been wary at first but accepted Winter among them, just as Yang said they would, and it proved to be a bit awkward as more than half were tempted to defer to the younger werewolf’s judgment, regardless of her inexperience.

“No, Your Highness.” The harried messenger sighed heavily. “We’ve tried everything to appease it. We’ve sent virgins-" 

"That’s a myth,” Yang said, her irritation beginning to show. “They’re drawn to those pure of heart, but if it’s charging children, then it’s likely been wounded or it’s protecting someone who is.” She tapped the table. “Leave out medicinal herbs in a basket at the edge of the forest. If it’s gone by morning, then it’s someone else; if the unicorn is standing in the area, then have a healer approach slowly with a sage necklace. If neither occurs, then send urgent word to the Guild.” Her gaze slid to the guild master, a man Winter trusted unequivocally- a member of their pack. “James, send a few of the younger members with Ren to oversee the offering; there’s a chance it might anger the unicorn, so they can at least turn its anger north rather than towards the village." 

"Of course, Your Highness.” He inclined his head. “I’ll see to the arrangements. Thank you for taking the time to hear this request out." 

Yang didn’t bother replying, immediately shooting up from her seat and heading for the door, her wife falling into step behind her after offering a quick, cordial farewell. 

"Easy, Sundrop.” Her voice, soft, held enough edge to be slightly reproachful. “We’re not far-" 

"We’re  _too_  far,” she replied, quickening her pace down the halls. “It’s too late to be leaving the room at all- what if we miss them hatching?" 

"We won’t-”

“But what if we  _do_?” The whole process had been long and drawn out. Two months of carrying the eggs before she laid them and another eight keeping them warm during the Atlesian winter, with only her duties as the kingdom’s official authority on uncommon beasts managing to pull her from the room. Winter brought her food and water, sat with the eggs when Yang absolutely had to leave, but she didn’t share the same attachment to them as the dragon did, instead more concerned about her mate’s well being. It made sense- wolves and humans usually carried their young to term- but it frustrated the dragon to the core. “I won’t have them coming into this world without me right next to them." 

"I understand that, but you’re running yourself ragged at this point.” Winter sighed, realizing she wouldn’t win the battle and dropping the offensive, her form shifting as she turned. Although the halls wouldn’t allow for Yang’s larger form to comfortably navigate, the werewolf could lope along the stone rather easily. She didn’t hesitate to dig her fingers deep into white fur and pull herself onto Winter’s back, pressing low so she could run, down the halls towards the dragon sized addition to the castle. 

Servants, guards, and whoever else happened to be in the hallway quickly ducked down corridors to avoid the two, everyone more than aware of Yang’s lack of patience for being away from her eggs. When they made the last turn, the royal guards standing at the doors wordlessly opened them, admitting the two without a word; they knew better than to waste time with pleasantries considering the circumstances.

“I feel like we should be offended you have so little faith in us,” Weiss said, having taken off her crown and relaxed as much as she ever did, one arm curled around her eldest child seated in her lap. Blake, meanwhile, had the twins occupied with some manner of puzzle that Yang couldn’t be bothered to decipher as she leapt into the air and shifted, gliding to the little nest she’d made and quickly checking her eggs, all of which were motionless and intact. 

 _I told you._  Winter padded over to her side as she wrapped her tail around the assortment of blankets and furs, all sprinkled with enchanted dust to prevent any fire mishaps; according to their father, Yang had hatched and immediately set fire to the nest, which he’d found funny only in hindsight. Their scents drenched the entire area, with Weiss’, Blake’s, and their children’s scents much less prominent, and all others obliterated by periodic blasts of dragonfire. The staff thought it a bit odd but it set Yang’s mind at ease, running more on instinct than sense ever since she’d gotten pregnant.  _We had time._  

 _You’re lucky._  The Dragon blew smoke through her nose.  _If we’d missed it-_  

“We would’ve sent for you,” Blake said, the ears atop her head twitching. “They’re moving around but they’ve not started trying to break through. There would’ve been plenty of time." 

 _That’s not the point._  

 _Sundrop._  Winter crawled atop her coils until she could rest her muzzle on the dragon’s snout.  _You’re fretting too much. You’ll make yourself sick worrying over nothing._  Her ears dropped to the sides of her head as she sighed deeply.  _You’ll be a fantastic mother. Of that much, I’m certain, so have a little faith in yourself._

Yang snorted, only a little smoke billowing from her nostrils.  _I’ll never be as good as Summer._

"That’s not  _even_  a fair comparison; Mom was the definition of Super Mom and you know it!” Ruby chimed in, slipping through the door bearing a tray piled high with cooked meats. “And she was also a witch, so I’m not sure if it really counts when almost all the chores did themselves." 

 _That’s-_  

"Beside the point,  _we know_.” Four voices chorused and Yang winced. 

 _… okay, maybe I’m a little high strung._  The way canine ears laid back spoke to the severity of that understatement but she ignored it.  _Can you really blame me?_

 _Of course not._  Winter nuzzled against her, tail wagging.  _But the faith you have in me, I have in you. Our children will be thankful for a mother so attentive._  Her tail stilled.  _Between us, you certainly have a better maternal instinct, and a better role model._  

“I’d take offense to that if I didn’t agree,” Willow said, striding into the room and bearing another tray like Ruby’s. Between a dragon and a werewolf, they had quite the appetite. “You both have a much healthier relationship than I had with Jacques. You’re already miles ahead in that department, and I’m certain the rest will fall in line, even with dragon… kits? What is the proper name for Dragon young?" 

 _We call them hatchlings._  Yang sighed, eyeing the plates of meat; she couldn’t remember the last time Winter reminded her to eat, nor if she’d actually followed the advice.

Sensing where her mate’s mind had wandered, the werewolf got up and loped over to her sister-in-law, grabbing a piece of meat in her jaws- lean pork, lightly salted by the smell- and snapped her head to the side, tossing it up in easy range for the dragon to snap out and pluck it from the air. The grumbling in her stomach said that it’d been far too long since she’d last eaten, making her disinclined to stop accepting the meat thrown her way. 

"Hatchlings? Curious; at what point are they no longer considered that?" 

"Once they’ve made their first kill,” Blake replied, wincing and putting a hand to her swollen belly, the fourth royal child on the way for the ruling couple. “She’s kicking again." 

"You’re sure? Another girl?” Weiss did her best to keep the hopefulness out of her voice but it shone in her eyes all the same. 

“I’m sure.” The Faunus laughed as the twins inspected their Mommy’s belly, little feline ears twitching. “You have a little sister on the way. But first, cousins." 

"Cousins?” Their eldest perked up, twisting in Mother’s lap. “We get cousins?" 

"You absolutely do, my little Grace.” Weiss smiled, looking towards her sister, busy licking her muzzle after finishing a cut of beef. “When do you think they’ll be ready to hunt?" 

 _Anywhere between a few months to a few years._  Winter tilted her head.  _Though I’m not sure how their mixed heritage might affect that._

 _Well, I’m only half dragon, too,_  Yang said, her hunger sated for the moment, freeing her up to consider the question posed.  _But the only difference it made for me is that I can’t really change my human appearance. Dragons can usually assume whatever outward appearance they wish, but I look like my dad._  

"Perhaps-" 

Suddenly, her attention snapped away as Blake’s ears perked up and her own hearing picked up something that sounded like faint scrabbling. She watched the four little eggs- all of them a pale yellow with splotches of light blue- and held her breath until one shifted, just slightly. 

 _It’s happening._  

 _What?_ Winter jumped up onto her coils, peering down with her ears cocked forward.  _Are you sure?_

 _Listen._  Silence fell on the room until another faint sound came from a different egg, the top wobbling just a little.  _There!_  

 _I saw._  Winter moved along her coils, nuzzling against her cheek.  _We’re right here for them._  

Minutes passed and Yang found it difficult to breathe, wanting to reach out and help the hatchlings and restraining herself by the barest measures. They would need to break into the world on their own. The waiting was agonizing but when she saw the cracks appear on one egg, her wings began to flex erratically, anticipation rising. 

_Snowdrift! Snowdrift, look!_

_I see._  Winter pressed against her cheek.  _We’re keeping to the names we picked out?_

 _Yeah._  She couldn’t be sure- not as sure as Blake, anyway- but she thought the darker splotches of blue might be little girls while the more vibrant yellow might signify a boy, but she honestly didn’t care, she already loved them.  _It shouldn’t be much longer now._  

All eyes in the room remained fixated on the four eggs, two of which moved around a lot, while a third had started to move as well. Yang could feel her excitement rising, shoulders bunching as Weiss and Blake came to stand beside her coils, while Ruby plopped down on her curled tail, and the children fluctuated between being bored and trying to get in the spirit of their parents’ anticipation.

Then, after a small eternity, one of the eggs broke, a tiny scaled nose poking through and taking its first breaths of air, gleaming white scales visible beneath the fluid. 

 _There you go, little one,_  she said, voice as soft as she could make it.  _Just a little more._  

At first, the nose retreated, and then it pushed again, tiny claws aiding as the little dragon broke a bigger hole, the egg falling over. A little dragon head slipped out, blue eyes blinking and curiously taking in the world. 

 _Hello, little Zephyr._  Winter fidgeted where she sat.  _Welcome to the world._  

The first hatchling twisted her head around, blinking up at them and opening her mouth, a sound halfway between a roar and a whine slipping out. Not words, not dragonspeak or even the language of werewolves, just the sounds of a newborn testing out vocal chords for the very first time.

 _Come on. Come out._  Yang felt tears of pride stinging her eyes, happiness flooding her as the second egg broke.  _Come out, Zise._  Her brows rose in surprise as the hole in the second egg was made bigger by a paw, a thin layer of fine fur instead of scales poking out followed by a little white dragon’s head.  _Uh…_  

The werewolf beside her blinked.  _Is… that…_  

 _I have… no idea…_  Yang cast a look around, not that anyone else knew better than her as the second hatchling broke free into the world, revealing wolf’s paws and a dragon’s body, head, and tail.  _Little one?_  

Bright gold eyes looked up at her, long neck stretching towards the dragon as she let out a similar noise to her sister. The third egg broke, golden scales accompanied a dragon’s head and front half, but from the belly down he was all wolf. 

 _Well…_  

"They’re… cute.” Weiss didn’t sound insincere but rather confused. “I’ve… certainly never heard of any creature like these. They’re… unique." 

"I wonder if this is normal, the combining of traits like this.” Blake tilted her head, a quirk to her lips. “They’re adorable.”

“Are you kidding?” Ruby laughed, clapping her hands together. “They’re perfect!" 

 _They really are,_  Winter said, nuzzling against Yang’s cheek.  _They’re incredible._

 _Yeah._  Now the shock had passed, the dragon could feel her pride and happiness surging forth, pressing back against her wife and mate.  _Just like their Mom._

 _I’d argue they take more after you._  But lilac eyes fell on the fourth egg, still and unblemished, and her heart sank. Winter noted her shift in mood, following her gaze to the fourth of their eggs.  _Oh…_  

 _Three out of four…_  She shifted her right arm subconsciously.  _Guess that’s a theme for me._

 _Oh Sundrop, this isn’t your fault._  The werewolf nosed under her jaw, rubbing at the soft spot in her scales.  _It happens-_

 _Is that supposed to make me feel better?_  She sighed, lowering her head to prod at the three hatchlings.  _Come here, little ones. Let Momma get a good look at you._  

However, now more or less mastering the ancient art of walking- it honestly looked more like stumbling around and luckily getting a claw beneath them before hitting the ground- they ignored her attention to look at the other egg, wobbling over until Zephyr could rear up and put her tiny claws up on the egg, sparking a flare of anger from Yang. 

 _Don’t-_  

Fire gathered on her tongue, a warning to be released high over their heads, but Winter wrapped her forelegs around the dragon’s head to keep her jaws closed- a futile effort but as effective as a steel trap. 

 _Wait._  They watched as the other two hatchlings made their way over.  _Give them a moment._

Everyone watched as the three nosed at the egg until the eldest pulled her head back and rammed it forward, smacking hard against the egg. 

Yang shifted slightly, whining a little, but her wife hushed her. 

Then the other two began hitting their heads against the same spot, taking turns, and using the pointed tips of their mouths to peel back the shell, and the full grown dragon quite nearly ripped herself away from Winter in her distress until a tiny black nose poked through the new opening, twitching and sniffing. 

 _What…_ Yang watched in slack jawed astonishment as the werewolf climbed down and approached the egg slowly, lowering her head so their hatchlings could press against her muzzle, recognizing her by scent and opening their little wings wide in a cute, playful gesture. Winter used her claws to carefully break open the last egg, revealing their fourth hatchling, mostly covered in white fur except from shoulder to tail, where she had the yellow scales, wings, and tail of a dragon. The wolf’s eyes were closed, canine ears pressed flat against her skull, and Yang’s breath caught entirely in her throat.  _… Zajah…_  

 _She looks more mammalian than draconic._  Winter noted, placing their still blind hatchling among her siblings.  _No wonder she had difficulties._

The dragon lowered her head down, allowing for tiny claws to begin scrabbling against her scales and feeling a wet nose press against her chin.  _Hello, little ones._  

"I can’t believe we’re witnessing the beginning of a new line.” She looked over to see Ruby’s wide eyes, shining with excitement. “ _Wolfdragons._ " 

"Mommy?” One of the twins turned a curious look to Blake. “What are those?" 

And with all the confidence of a seven year old, Grace answered. "They’re scaly fluffy baby cousins." 

The rest of the room stood in stunned silence until Weiss finally coughed into her hand. "It’s not like she’s  _wrong_." 

All of them burst into laughter, Yang’s body uncoiling to allow Weiss and Blake to escort their family over to the hatchlings while Ruby darted ahead to scoop up Zise. Zephyr and Zachariah tentatively approached their cousins, with Zajah acclimating to the sudden increase in movement with little yelps that Winter soothed while Yang let out a low growl to settle all four of them. Eventually, the dragon turned her head to see Willow standing off to the side, speaking directly to the woman so it wouldn’t upset her wife.  _Do you want a better look at your grandchildren?_

The woman’s lips twitched, responding in kind- one of the few humans to master the skill.  _The birth of my children are the few good memories I have out of nearly twenty four years. I wouldn’t want to intrude._

 _You’re part of this family, too._  She smiled.  _I’m sure there’s many new happy memories awaiting us._

 _Mother,_  Winter said, holding their last hatchling in one massive paw while using the other three to move.  _Look, she has a birthmark just like I do._  

"Does she now?” Willow stepped closer, reaching out to accept the youngest of her grandchildren- for the moment, anyway. Blake had only a few months left before she was due, and the current betting pool around the castle expected more additions to the royal family. “Come to Granny Willow, little Zajah." 

Yang smiled, chuckling as Weiss set the eldest atop her snout, the white dragon opening her mouth open wide. In time, they would grow- who knew how big- and maybe they’d fly the skies with her or run the fields alongside Winter, and maybe they’d look just like a combination of their parents in their human forms, too, and a million other possibilities whirled through her head as she made a solemn vow. 

 _I will do my best as your momma, little ones._  Yang’s gaze was drawn up to the windows as a shadow appeared, black and red scales surrounding bright red eyes. The dragon on the other side of the glass looked at her for a moment before giving a single nod and disappearing into the night.

"Sorry I’m late!” The doors opened as Taiyang burst in, three royal guards hanging off the man. “I heard I have grandkids! Finally!" 

"Guards! Let the man be; he’s my father-in-law!” Weiss paused. “I’m pretty sure that’s how it works." 

"At any rate, he’s allowed to be here,” Blake said, the guards following orders and releasing the man. 

“So where-” His eyes fell on Zephyr, Zise, Zach, and Zajah in turn, blinking for a moment before his smile widened. “Well,  _look_  at them! They’re-" 

"They’re wolfdragons, Dad, and they’re awesome!” Zach started licking at the underside of Ruby’s jaw, making her laugh. “They’re like puppies with scales!" 

"Sounds like you’re in for an easier time than I had.” He laughed, striding forward and holding his arms out to Zach. “Now come here little guy! What’s your name?" 

Yang watched as her father embraced one of of his grandchildren, Zephyr scrabbling to the edge of her snout to inspect the newcomer, this man who smelled a little like Momma and a little different, and the dragon in her felt absolutely content with the treasures before her. 

In her excitement, Winter tilted her head back and let out a long howl, following it with a few shorter ones that conveyed her overflowing emotions. Almost together, four tiny voices echoed her, the sounds not… quite the same, but close enough. 

Weiss told the guards to send for Klein, James, and Healer Goodwitch, that the newest additions to their family might know the extent of their pack. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not even gonna lie; ended up doing this chapter because I was asked about how their kids would turn out, and I couldn't resist the notion of wolfdragon kids. And the Monochrome kids are Dash's snowcubs.


End file.
